Harry Potter and The Final Twilight
by The Cold Turkey
Summary: [Hiatus]After the fall of Dumbledore, after the year that changed everything, Harry is ready to face his destiny. He will need the help of his friends, of his family, and most of all of the ones he cares for the deepest to survive. HPGW, RWHG
1. Prologue: On the Run

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

Prologue: On the Run

A lightning bolt crashed across the sky, shortly followed by a loud crack of thunder that signaled the oncoming deluge. Slowly at first, rain began to fall from the heavens, eventually transforming into a steady downpour. On a beaten gravel roadway a man in tattered robes slowly walked with purpose to an unknown destination. Ignoring the rain, he calmly kept his steady pace, only wavering to avoid rather deep potholes that had quickly filled with muddy water.

He entered a small hamlet in an isolated countryside. He paused a moment to glance over the dillapitated buildings barely standing, most of them constructed hastily out of local wood and stone that could be easily salvaged from the nearby hillsides. At the end of the way was a small inn and tavern, a half-broken sign swaying haggeredly in the wind. The man took a glance backwards, as if waiting for someone, and then pressed forward, headed towards the inn.

Glancing up at the swaying sign, he read the name of the place. Dragonshead. There would be no safer place for him right now, and truthfully no safer place for the parcel that he carried. Confident that he had chosen the right course of action, at least for now, Severus Snape strode into the inn, the door remained open for a few seconds longer than it should have, before slamming shut.

The inn was a small place, with little more than a few wooden tables and chairs strewn about, surrounding a small fireplace that was slowly fading away into the night. Behind the bar stood a man cleaning a few mugs. He slowly nodded to Severus, and motioned for him to come closer.

"Evenin' sir," the Cockney-eyed man said warmheartedly. "Are you here for a room, we got plenty of 'em available for the night."

"Yes, perhaps in a few minutes," Severus off-handedly replied. He kept a strong eye out for anyone in the room, eyes darting this way and that. "Has a woman come in here recently. She would be wearing all black, blonde hair, wouldn't say much?"

"Come to think of it, there was someone like that a bit earlier. Said 'er name was Black or something like that. She got 'erself a room. Prolly asleep I'd imagine." The barkeep contemplated this for a moment, before going back to his glasses. He kept on talking, uncaring that Severus had turned up the stairs in search of his intended companion. "Nice lookin' one she was, a bit on the hagged side though..."

Severus walked down the narrow hallway, swaying this way and that for the right room. There were eight rooms lined up, with four on either side of the hallway. The door was securely locked on three on the left side, and there was no indication of any light coming from behind the large wooden door. Down at the far end on the right, a door stood slightly ajar, but was dark as night. Turning to the second door on the right, which had a small amount of lantern light seeping through, he pulled his wand out from his robes and took a deep breath. Slowly he reached for the door handle, and found it unlocked. Hesitating but for a moment, he opened the door and pointed his wand ahead.

The room was empty.

Silently cursing himself he walked into the room and pinched out the lantern. He returned to the hallway, leaving the door open halfway. He walked down a ways before stopping at the door at the far end on the left. Not sensing anyone in the room, Severus nonetheless opened it with his wand at the ready. Inside he found a ghostly white figure, sitting on the ramshackled bed, staring outside at the ever-raging storm with a solemn look etched across her face.

Severus noted that in the months since he had last seen Narcissa Malfoy, her once radiant beauty had slowly withered away to the spectre now lain before him. He took a few moments to process what had become of her, before alerting her to his presence.

"Narcissa." The woman turned to face Severus, the bags under her eyes indicant of the recent lack of sleep she had gotten. In her eyes he could see a distant, yet hopeful, gleam of the future.

"Please Severus," she spoke in an even tone, "Tell me what happened at the school. Your letters to me were too brief."

"Imagine my surprise when you contacted me."

"I have to know Severus. Is Draco alright? Has he been…"

Severus took this moment to take the woman and give her a soft embrace. Quickly, the facade of calm that had been present on Narcissa Malfoy's face gave way to near utter hysterics. After several minutes, Snape pulled back and looked her steadily in the eye.

"Draco is fine. Voldemort was less than happy when he learned the circumstances surrounding Professor Dumbledore's death, but he got over it relatively quickly. I can't say that it's been easy however; the Dark Lord has been harder on Draco than he has been on the other students."

"Other students? Severus…what is he doing?"

"He's preparing an army Narcissa." This last revelation sent Narcissa's mind for a shock. Severus took the opportunity to sit in the small leather chair in the corner of the room. "A group of individuals comprised of students from Hogwarts, Drumstrang and several other schools throughout Europe is being trained by Augustus, with their instruction overseen by the Dark Lord himself."

"Augustus? Augustus Longshanks? I thought he was in Azkaban!"

"He was. There was an attack on the prison a week ago and Augustus was freed….along with your husband."

Narcissa dropped at hearing this. She slowly stood up and headed closer to the window. Staring out at nothing in particular, she took note of the slowly dying storm, and forcefully tried to hide back the onslaught of emotion that she wanted to let out.

"The best thing for you to do," Severus finally said, "is stay in hiding. The Dark Lord is none too pleased with the fact that you forced me to do what I did...and while he has spared me some of his wrath I cannot say he will hold you in the same regard."

"I'm not going to be some coward," she said forcefully. "I'm going to reunite with my son and we're going to start a new life. Away from Voldemort. Away from Lucius. Away from everything."

"It's not that simple. The Dark Lord is not going to give up on your son very easily." Severus stood up and walked over to Narcissa, who continued her vigil of staring outside. "'Cissa, you have to trust me on this. Things are set in motion now that cannot be undone, and the best thing we can do is simply let them play out."

"Easy for you to say!" she suddenly exclaimed, catching him a bit off guard. "You haven't had to give up every..." she trailed off as she saw Snape actually show anger. It boiled up from out of him, and he couldn't stop it from boiling out.

"I HAVEN'T HAD TO GIVE UP EVERYTHING?!? Who had to watch as both of the people that he cared for most in this world were cut down by Voldemort? Who had to stand by and see Lily killed like a dog because he couldn't get there in time!" He stopped short, catching his breath, and trying to re-establish some semblance of calm.

"I'm sorry Severus...I..."

"No. I'm sorry. You're frustrated, I know. But for know...you'll just have to deal with it."

Narcissa nodded at this and slowly turned out of the room. She took a few steps out of the doorway and turned back to Severus. "Please, tell my son that I love him."

"I will."

On that note Narcissa lifted the hood of the jet black robe she had been wearing and headed down the hallway towards the exit of the inn. Snape sat in the room, lingering for a moment longer. The sound of some footsteps entering the room and the door shutting alerted him back to the present. In front of him, there was a sudden figure, seemingly to appear out of thin air.

The young man was a haggard figure, much like his mother. A fresh scar covered his left eye, which was an even lighter shade of gray than his right one. He was clad in makeshift Death Eater robes that were torn along the seams and barely covered his pale skin. Without missing a beat, the man through the invisibility cloak onto the bed and proceeded to resume the position where Narcissa had been a few minutes prior. He said nothing to Snape, who merely stared back at him.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that Draco," Snape said, his voice never wavering from its consistent tone. "And I'm sorry that you can't be with your mother. If she were to see you now in this condition, Merlin knows what she'd do."

Draco merely kept a firm gaze out of the window as he saw his mother head out into the returning storm. Snape walked over and placed a hand on the younger Malfoy's shoulder for but a moment, before turning back to the room. Removing his wand he transfigured the small chair into a larger couch and pillow. "We'll sleep here tonight," he said firmly.

"Who's Lily?" Draco finally said, his gaze still not leaving the window.

"No one you need to concern yourself with," Snape retorted, after contemplating the question for a few moments. "Now get some sleep. I have to put in an appearance with the Dark Lord tomorrow, you'll be safe here for a few days yet. Hopefully by that time we'll have received a letter from our benefactor instructing us on the future."

Draco wished to know who the benefactor was that Snape kept mentioning, but he simply let the subject rest for now. Taking a last look out of the window he maintained an even keel, despite the solitary tear that fell down his face in time with the falling rain. He turned, and waited to confront sleep.

Elsewhere in the wizarding world a lone figure had already been embraced in sleep. A loud roar of a thunderclap later and he was up in a rush.

The figure was clad solely in boxers, his deep blue eyes darting this way and that. The pale moonlight and limited light from the street lamps outside revealed the scars which darted across his body this way and that. After a few moments to make sure that he was in fact just startled from a rather pleasant dream, he took a deep sigh and lowered the wand which had sprung to his grasp when he had awoken.

Grimacing as he saw the time from the non-magical watch sitting on his nightstand, he quickly deduced that sleep would not return anytime soon. Sighing he outstretched his hand and a deep blue bathrobe quickly came to him. Slipping it on he opened the door and headed downstairs to his kitchen.

After placing a kettle of hot water on the stove, the man grabbed a glass and teabag from the counter overhead. He glanced out the window every few seconds, and before long his gaze returned to the window over the sink and noticed a curious thing sitting on the fence in his yard. Lowering the heat on the kettle he walked over to the window and took a closer look. There in the lamp light he could see the outline of a tabby cat, curiously perched on the fence, staring straight at him. After pondering this sight for a moment he smiled to himself and opened the window.

"You can come in if you like," the man said, the grin not leaving his face. The cat surprisingly obliged and jumped from the fence onto the ground. After climbing up a flight of stairs to the deck, it jumped up onto the windowsill and then onto the kitchen counter. Idly, the man scratched underneath the cat's chin, a gesture that the cat didn't seem to appreciate.

"Oh come now, you alway liked that when I did it before...Minerva." At this notion the cat jumped to the floor and began to change shape. The orange fur melted away to reveal emerald green robes and slightly rosy flesh underneath. After a moment the shape of Minerva McGonagall appeared where the cat had once been.

"Seriously Demetrius," the woman said with a shake, "I don't have time for your nonsense. And besides, that was a long time ago." There was a hint of pleasure in the last bit as her voice tapered off, leaving Demetrius to consider it. There momentary reunion was interrupted by the loud whistle of a tea kettle.

"Well, perfect timing. Care for a cup of tea? It's Earl Gray..."

"Yes, thank you."

Demetrius walked over and grabbed another glass and bag from the cabinet. He poured the hot water into the two mugs and placed the bags in a second later. Banishing the kettle to the sink to deal with later, he headed towards the small sitting area table where McGonagall had taken a seat.

"Sugar?"

"One lump please."

Smiling and shaking head head, Demetrius complied, and handed the cup to Minerva. "After all these years Minerva," he said with a smile still on his face, "you still haven't changed a thing about you."

"Perhaps not this..." she trailed off as she took stock of the room. The sitting room was connected to the larger living area, which actually looked quite mugglelish all things considered save for the small pad of parchment and quill on the oak desk and the grayish owl asleep in a cage in the corner. There were twin bookcases on the far end of the room, each filled with various books that had been enchanted to appear as normal Muggle novels but to a magical eye would actually be a rather impressive library of spells and tomes. "I'm sorry to visit you at such a late hour," Minerva continued, turning away from her inspection of the house, "but frankly we have a serious problem."

"Yes I read your last owl," Demetrius responded, regarding the witch in front of him. Age had only improved her looks in his mind, where as it had taken it's toll on him. Minerva too regarded the shoulder-length brown hair that had a slight hint of gray along the sides, and the rugged chin and goatee that gave him a roguish appearance. Both regarded each other in this way for a few moments before continuing their conversation.

"Then you know what a problem we have. The governors are still debating now and it's looking more and more likely that the school will be closed. If the students are left to their own devices...they'll be easy targets."

"I agree." He concluded this simple statement by swirling the bag around in his mug for a moment before continuing. "The question is what do we do about it?"

"Well...several families, the Weasleys for example, are actively campaigning to keep the school open. The other professors and myself are going door to door trying to convince parents that Hogwarts is the safest place for their children...but we aren't making much headway..." she trailed off before continuing, trying to formulate this next thought precisely. Though Demetrius had an inkling what she would ask, he kept to himself.

"Demetrius, that's partially why I'm here. It would greatly help my position if I could say that the great Demetrius Longshanks was going to be returning to Hogwarts and teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." Demetrius chuckled as he stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

"I gave that job up years ago," Demetrius said without pause, "What's changed other than having Voldemort back that would make me change my mind?"

Minerva followed Demetrius into the kitchen, where he was attentively washing out the kettle he had used earlier. "Demetrius, people are going to die if Hogwarts doesn't reopen..."

"Seems likely to me people are going to die anyway."

"Yes but at least at Hogwarts they'd have a chance. The ministry is going to be stationing Aurors at the castle at all hours of the day."

"If Voldemort attacks in force on the castle, you won't hold it. You might hold out, even make him work at it, but if the man can break into Azkaban without difficulty, Hogwarts castle will fall just as easily." He paused a moment before continuing, "The only chance you really have is if you had more forces..."

"Which is exactly why we need you. You're the foremost expert on wizard's duels in the country, probably throughout Europe. Need I go into your many accomplishments as former Deputy Head of the Auror Department too?"

"That won't be necessary," Demetrius replied, heading back for the sitting area. Instead of taking a chair he contemplated the area outside, where the storm had completely passed, and considered the offer placed before him. "If I accept, their would be certain conditions."

"I can be as accommodating as possible."

"Good...firstly I'd be supplying the text books. Nothing against you're vaunted Hogwarts staff and governors, but you need books for the younger years that actually teach them something. Secondly I'll teach the class my way. I promise you if there's something that would make you cringe or the Ministry would frown upon with lifetime passes to Azkaban, then I'll get your approval first."

"Those sound reasonable..."

"I'm not finished. Finally, I'll require a list of every sixth and seventh year student that will be attending as soon as you can have it available."

"What for?"

"I'll be creating a special section of Defense. Let's face it, if Voldemort attacks in force you're going to need all the help you can get..."

"I'm not going to use the students as my own personal army!"

"I'm not asking you to. It's simply as a defense of last resort to protect the castle should the aurors and whatever other reinforcements we can dig up fail. This term is non-negotiable Minerva, take it or leave it." Minerva contemplated this but for a moment before her reply.

"Very well. I will send an owl to the professors tomorrow telling them about our newest teacher." She paused and went back to the living area. There on the wall, something she had not noticed before, sat a few pictures that obviously were of a wizarding origin. A few pictures of herself and Longshanks she ignored, it was the center photo of one Albus Dumbledore, there posing with a much younger Demetrius Longshanks as he received his Order of Merlin award, that caught her eye and brought a tear.

"I can't believe he's really gone sometimes," Demetrius said, noticing the look on McGonagall's face. "How's the Order faring without him?"

"Frankly we're lost without Professor Dumbledore. We still are acting, but there's less of an organization to it. We're running around like a bunch of birds with our heads cut off." She paused a moment before turning back to Demetrius, "Perhaps you could..."

"No," he flat out responded. "There's only one person who can lead the Order right now. Only one person uniquely qualified to do so, and it certainly isn't me.


	2. Chapter 1: For the Last Time

A/N: Shorter than I would have liked but here nonetheless. Review if you wish.

I own none of the Harry Potter canon.

Chapter 1: For the Last Time...

Harry sat at his desk in the hated Privet Drive, waiting for someone to come along and shake him from his lethargy. He was staring out the window, not particularly glancing at anything. Hedwig was currently sitting on her perch, sleeping away the late evening hours. His school trunk sat unpacked at the foot of his bed, his Firebolt dropped on the floor haphazardly. Harry was essentially feeling numb, and had the entire time since the funeral.

It was just now beginning to dawn on him that his last line of defense, the last guardian he had in this world that stood between him and the enemy that he had to kill or be killed by, had himself been struck down by a man he implicitly trusted. The feelings of anger and sorrow burned inside the pit of Harry's stomach.

The train ride home on the Express hadn't helped matters either. Though he had shared the cabin with the people who had essentially saved him from a horrid life with the Dursleys, the uncomfortable feeling he had at the back of his mind that it could be the last time he would be gathered with any of them gnawed at him greatly. One in particular, the feelings of anguish over the possible loss of one Ginny Weasley had been particularly difficult to deal with. The fact that he had pushed her away himself did nothing to aid this feeling.

He wanted her to be safe. It was a perfectly noble, and logical thing to do he kept reminding himself. All his life the people around him had been getting hurt. His parents. His godfather. Cedric. Dumbledore. Therefore, it would make sense that with as much as he cared for Ginny for him to keep her at more than arm's length. Ron and Hermione he could do nothing about, Ginny he could at least try and protect this way.

The small sound of a car door slamming shut had awoken him from his revery. He winced as he realized that his Uncle Vernon had returned home from work. He had been partially dreading this moment. He hadn't informed his Aunt and Uncle about his early return from Hogwarts, and his Aunt had been more than a little upset when he showed up on his doorstep with Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin as insurance that she would allow him to re-enter the home. The charm had been activated for the last time at that point, and it would protect him for a couple months longer until he turned 17. Surprisingly Petunia had been less adamant than he had thought she would be, especially after she learned of the death of Dumbledore. He figured once she, and by proxy Vernon, knew about that they'd throw him out on the street for sure. Perhaps she hadn't because of the two wizards who had accompanied him to Privet Drive that afternoon. Yes, that must have been the reason, Harry told himself firmly.

He listened closely for his cousin and Uncle to come storming up the steps the moment they learned of his arrival. To his knowledge Petunia had already told them. To his surprise the ominous barreling steps never came, at least not for a good while. He could hear them setting up down below in the kitchen, getting ready to eat dinner. His stomach growled at this realization, but he quickly quashed that idea mentally. Last thing he needed to do was go barging in expecting something to eat.

Turning back to his school trunk that had faithfully served him for 6 years running, he opened it up and began emptying its contents. He threw his invisibility cloak over the edge of his bed, making certain to pick up his broom and set it in the corner. The Marauder's Map he stuck firmly inside his school robe pocket and then placed that next to his cloak. As he did, a small plink of metal alerted him to something falling out of the pocket. He leaned over to pick it up, and paused when he saw what it was.

The fake locket of Salazar Slytherin. One thing above many that had led to the death of his beloved headmaster. Grimacing at seeing it again, he threw it back in his robe pocket and went back to his things. He made a mental note to have Hermione find out more about "R.A.B." as soon as it was convenient.

Next he placed various school books that he had acquired over the years on his desk, making a note to go through them all and try and piece together anything that might give him an edge over Voldemort when the final battle came. He knew he would have to face him in the end, and that he would have to face him alone, and he wanted to be prepared. And with Professor Dumbledore dead, and his return to Hogwarts virtually non-existent, he would have to prepare himself. He promised himself that any edge, no matter how small or out of the way it might be, would be exploited in order to achieve victory.

He quickly corrected that statement in that mind. He wouldn't resort to the darkness, no matter how tempting the thought might be. A reminder of deciding between what is right and what is easy popped into his head, eliciting a small grin from his otherwise stoic face.

Next to his books he threw a small pad of parchment and a quill that would be required for his research. Finally he stopped near the bottom of his trunk and pulled out the tattered book that had belonged to the Half-Blood Prince. Grimacing at what that meant, Harry placed the book at the bottom of the stack of his schoolbooks and planned to go through that. He might make an exception on the dark curses as far as the 'Prince' and his platinum-blonde cohort were concerned.

Satisfied that his trunk was as clean as it was going to get, he replaced the lid and went back over to his desk chair and sat down. Removing his glass to rub his eyes, he was startled a bit by a tapping at the window. Looking over he saw a plain gray owl, one of the many that were used in the Hogwarts owlry, sitting on the sill. He replaced his glasses and opened the window a bit for the owl to come in. Removing the note from the bird, he stroked it gently on the head and the bird went on its way. He glanced down at the envelope addressed to him, and then cracked open the seal, which he noticed was now a stylized "M." Inside he found a simple letter, addressed to him by name.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I fear that the events of the last few weeks may have shattered all faith in the magical community. Prof...Albus' death is perhaps the single greatest shock to befall our world since this Second War began and things seem to be falling apart at the seams. The Ministry is reverting back to its old ways of delusion, saying they're winning when quite obviously they are not. Azkaban prison was raided a few days ago and several Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, were set free. And now the school is in very serious danger of closing._

_Yet none of this worries me as much as what your future plans are Harry. Albus' portrait won't give me much information concerning your mission, other than it is likely that you won't be returning to Hogwarts for your 7th year. I personally feel this is a grave mistake, but I understand your desire should you choose this course of action and will support you._

_I must ask you to reconsider though. Having you here will provide people with a sense of security, whether it is real or perceived. Like it or not Harry, with Albus gone you are likely the most influential person outside of the Ministry of Magic. People will look to you for guidance and leadership in these dark times. I apologize for trying to use you in this manner, I know the Ministry's attempts to do so in the past have been met with rather angry rejections on your part._

_Regardless of your future plans with Hogwarts, I do request that you see me after your birthday. There are a number of items that Albus left to you in his will that I have in my possession, and you are to receive them at that appropriate time._

_Dark times are here Harry, I only hope that you can help us steer through them._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry stared at the letter for a good long while as he read it again and again. He had no plans to return to Hogwarts for his seventh year, and to be truthful a small part of him was annoyed that McGonagall would try to use him like a charm. He considered it a moment longer before shrugging the thought out of his head. The fact that the Ministry had gone back into damage control mode didn't surprise him in the slightest. It looked as if Scrimgoeur was going to turn out almost as bad as Fudge.

He stopped to consider the remainder of McGonagall's words for a moment. Apparently the death of Dumbledore had shaken her as well, perhaps even moreso than it had him. McGonagall had never appeared to be easily shaken or disturbed, but even she seemed to have given up, at least in some respect.

"_He's back?!?" _The loud booming voice of one Vernon Dursley brought Harry back to his reality. He frantically dropped the letter on his desk and rushed over to the corner. Hedwig was startled awake as Harry placed her in his arms and let her fly out the window. She sat on the sill for a moment, not sure what to do, but at his urging she flew out to stretch her wings. Whatever Vernon was about to do, Harry didn't want the owl getting hurt.

He could hear the thud-thud-thud of Vernon stomping up the stairs, closely followed by his cousin Dudley and more than likely just behind them was Petunia. Consciously he slid his wand up his sleeve, ready to call it into service should it be needed. To be quite frank in his current mental state he felt he was practically capable of anything against his constant tormentors.

Quickly the door to his room slammed open and a red-faced walrus with a mustache stood in front of the door staring at Harry. "What are you doing back here!" he shouted, his gaze never once leaving Harry, "You weren't due back for another three weeks! And showing up with those two...freaks...you nearly scared your aunt to death!"

"Like I told Petunia," Harry replied, trying to remain as calm as he could at this moment, "School was let out because the headmaster was killed."

"That old crackpot! Serves him right after what he did last year, treating Dudley like a doormat!" Harry winced at this and felt his anger rising up. Slowly, he approached his uncle, the logical part of his mind fighting with the part that wanted to subject this man to the cruciatus curse. Fortunately, the logical part of his mind won out for now.

"He died protecting me...and the school. He sacrificed himself just like my parents did and just like my godfather did." Vernon raised an eyebrow at this.

"You? Why would anyone want to protect a horrible little worm like you?" The years of verbal abuse at the hands of the Dursleys had made it easier for Harry to allow it to roll off his back, normally. But given the rather volatile state of his emotions right now, he simply stared ahead and allowed the anger to build up. He just merely listened as Vernon continued. "Anyway, now that he's dead, you're going to be out on your arse. I don't care if that Voldymot character shows up and blows you to Timbuktu anyway. He'll have done the world a favor, killing off you freaks." Harry didn't notice the slight wince the passed over Petunia's face in the background, and if he had he likely wouldn't have cared. In that one instant, all the anger and frustration he had felt over the last week or so, and all the anger he had for this man boiled over the surface, and Harry decided to act on it.

In no short amount of time the fat man was sent falling to the floor, his jaw loosened quite significantly from the right cross that Harry had planted there. Harry stood in the doorway, staring down at the stunned walrus. He glared hard, and made certain that his voice was filled with venom.

"I don't give a damn what you think of me. But don't you EVER disrespect my parents, my godfather, or Professor Dumbledore in my presence again." Vernon just kept a close eye on Harry, apparently too stunned to speak. Petunia was apparently holding Dudley back, trying to keep him from rushing his cousin. Harry looked up at his Aunt, less forceful than he had been with his Uncle, but still quite firm."I intend on staying here for a few weeks to work on a few things and collect my thoughts. When I'm finished I'll leave and you'll never see me again. Do us all a favor and just stay away from me."

On that note, Harry slammed the door in all of their faces and silently placed the strongest locking charm he could on it. He didn't really care if the Ministry showed up about him using magic at home or not, they had bigger fish to fry anyway. He silently waited for Vernon to try and undo the lock, but smirked when he knew it wouldn't work.

Suddenly however, he heard a telltale click and the door slipped open just as quickly. He barely had time to catch his cousin coming at him with his full muscular bulk. Years of Quidditch training kicked in and he dodged his cousin's blows, before sending him reeling with a slight but firm knee to the midsection. Without fail Harry picked up his cousin by the cuff of his neck and pushed him out of his room. He looked up and saw Petunia staring at him...and at the door, and finally at Dudley, before shutting the door herself and locking it from the outside. Harry didn't consider it but for a moment, and simply placed his wand on his desk and fell to his bed. The adrenaline he had acquired from his confrontation with his uncle was beginning to fade, and the anger and sadness over everything was taking its toll. Before long tears were flowing unbroken from his eyes, and day had turned to night long before he had finished crying himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2: Aunt Petunia's Secret

Chapter 2: Aunt Petunia's Secret

Harry awoke with a start, and instinctively grabbed for the wand which was sitting on his desk. He looked around frantically for a moment, trying to piece together where he was and what exactly was going on at the moment. When he realized that he was still in his bedroom at the Dursley's, he calmed down slightly.

Taking a few deep breaths, he struggled to grasp the fading pieces of the dream that he had been awoken from. Something about Quidditch and...otters. He realized that the dream wouldn't likely be remembered, something that actually brought relief to him as he always remembered the real visions. Confident that the immediate future was secure, he placed his wand back on his desk and rubbed his temples, trying to shake the sleep out of them.

He idly lifted the window open a crack, allowing Hedwig to fly back in from her evening journey. The snowy white owl flashed a slightly reproachful look at Harry for making her wait, but quickly was satiated with a small treat from Harry's collection. Harry stood up and stroked the bird, yawning again as the last vestiges of his slumber left his body. As he replayed the events of the night before in his head, he was certain that the door was locked still. Grabbing his wand, he pointed it at the door and spoke aloud "Alohamora."

There was not the usual flash of light and clicking sound of the door being unlocked. Harry raised an eyebrow and tried again, receiving the same result. Dropping his wand up his sleeve, he hesitantly reached out for the door and turned the knob. To his surprise, it opened without difficulty. He peered out into the hallway, trying to see if anyone was there, but saw no one. A glint of light at the bottom of his feet attracted his attention to the floor, where he saw a silver tray with a small parcel of food and a meticulously folded piece of paper stuck underneath the plate. Harry stared in wonder at the tray, before taking it up and closing his door once again. He walked over and set the tray on his bed, contemplating it for a moment. Grabbing the note but ignoring the food for but a moment, he unfolded it and quickly read it.

_Harry,_

_Your, rather convincing, argument last night has convinced your Uncle to allowing you to stay here as long as you need, but he asks that you vacate after your birthday. He also asks that you remain in your room as much as possible, including taking your meals up there. Also, please leave Dudley alone._

_I think your Uncle fears you now more than ever. He's felt threatened by you since you first arrived on our doorstep, but that fear is much greater than it ever has been before. It is most likely this fear that will keep him in line for the remainder of your time here. If you leave us alone, we'll leave you alone while you sort things out._

_I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore died. It's never easy to lose a friend._

Harry stared at the note, his jaw at least figuratively firmly planted on the ground. Here marked the one time in his life that his Aunt had actually regarded him as a living, breathing person, and not as a doormat. He glanced at the food and, deciding it wasn't poisoned, began to eat at his desk. He snickered to himself at the poisoning thought. He was turning into Mad-Eye.

Upon finishing the plate, he placed it back on the tray and refolded the note. On the outside, he wrote a simple "Thank You" before setting it back just outside his door. He opened his school trunk and pulled out a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt and proceeded out towards the bathroom. After twenty minutes under a shower and a fresh change of clothes, he found the tray missing from the place he had left it, a silent agreement made civilly.

This is the way things continued for the next two weeks. Harry would get up at around 8 o'clock in the morning, have a shower, eat his breakfast, work for two or three hours, have his lunch, work until the evening, have a small bit of dinner, and work again late into the night until he fell asleep either at his desk or, if he was lucky enough to make it there, in his bed rather fully clothed. A clothes-washing charm that Mrs. Weasley had once taught him made sure he at least didn't reek to high heaven. As he suspected the Ministry of Magic was too concerned with other matters to really worry about his use of underage magic, though his concern for the matter was minimal to begin with.

As for his work, it was the tireless effort of painstakingly searching every nook and cranny of every magical book and tome that he had acquired over the years that consumed the vast majority of his time. The tenacity with which he attacked the task would have made Hermione proud. One by one the books he possessed were carefully checked and rechecked, with any potential lead jotted down on a piece of parchment for later examination. Having tired of this redundant task one afternoon, Harry took a different route, and instead began listing all he knew about the Horcruxes.

The diary was gone, this much he knew for certain. He had seen to its destruction himself, though at the time he couldn't possibly fathom the power it held. Marvolo Gaunt's ring was gone as well. Dumbledore had seen to that. The locket of Slytherin was missing, but could possibly have been destroyed. According to Dumbledore both Hufflepuff's double-handed cup and Voldemort's pet snake Nagini were both on the list as well, though the location of the cup was a mystery. And finally there was an artifact belonging to one of the Founder's...location unknown. Harry made mental note that the snake would have to come just prior to or actually during the final battle, otherwise Voldemort might get cautious and check his other Horcruxes.

This line of thought also elicited a shock of realization from Harry. Voldemort had to have known about the diary. Groaning, he realized that Voldemort may have had time to create another Horcrux. He certainly had committed enough murders. He made a note to try and research more artifacts from the Founders as soon as he could. As to speculation where the artifacts might be, Harry had a gut feeling that Voldemort had stashed one down in the Chamber of Secrets. He would have been the only one who could have opened the chamber anyway.

As he examined the parchment he had crafted over and over again, his thoughts rolled back to the mysterious R.A.B. He went over in his head about people he knew possibly with those initials. Having failed with that, he examined each letter individually...before his eyes widened suddenly. Black. It was so simple it was brilliant. Regulus Black, a former Death Eater that Sirius said had been killed on orders from Voldemort. The A must be his middle initial. Internally Harry smiled as he had solved one small mystery. Now he needed to find the locket itself, or its remains.

It was at the beginning of his third week at Privet Drive that he finally came to the Prince's book. He flipped through the pages, deciding that the spells in it were far too dangerous to be tried haphazardly. He had learned his lesson the hard way on that one, although all things considered he told himself, it could have worked out worse. The notes on the potions wouldn't provide much help, though they would be worth a look anyway. Taking a deep breath he turned back to the first page and began his detailed analysis of the spells included within.

After four days of scouring the Prince's book, Harry was satisfied that he had been over it with a fine toothed comb. Sighing as he placed the book down and brought organization to the small mountain of parchment he had compiled in the few weeks he had been here. He had been so hard at work, that he had barely noticed the time go by. He had frequently received messages from his friends urging him to join them at the Burrow, but the last two days had been strangely quiet. Not thinking much of it, he picked up the letter that he had received early this morning from one Remus Lupin, a reply to the letter that Harry himself had sent the werewolf asking for escort from Privet Drive for the last time.

It took him the better part of the next morning before he was ready to leave for the Burrow. Glancing over his begrudgingly given room one last time, he made sure all of his items were accounted for and in his trunk. Confident that he had everything, he pulled his wand from the one set of casual robes he owned and banished his trunk and broom to the downstairs landing. He gently grabbed Hedwig's cage and proceeded to leave the room himself, turning his back on it forever.

As he reached the downstairs he set Hedwig's cage on top of his trunk and took stock of the area that never really was his home. He knew that Vernon would have an absolute fit if he saw him, particularly dressed as he was now. Not that Harry particularly cared what that self-righteous imbecile thought of him at the moment, but he'd rather leave quietly and without much of a scene.

Harry could hear someone walking in from the kitchen, and turned to see the visage of his Aunt Petunia staring at him. At first she was shocked, and Harry could tell somewhat appalled by his appearance. But quickly the look faded to one of...sadness? Harry couldn't quite tell what was going on in his aunt's mind, and wasn't entirely sure that she hadn't suddenly been replaced by someone else.

"Leaving then?" she said, matter of factly. Harry simply nodded, keeping his wand well within reach. "I'm surprised it wasn't sooner. Don't worry, Vernon and Dudley are gone for the day, they won't be home till tonight." There was an awkward silence that followed as Harry thought for some words to say. Remus wasn't due to arrive for a few minutes more and to be truthful he had never been involved in a civil conversation with his aunt before. He wondered if this was how Arthur Weasley must have felt when he tried to make small talk with the most mugglish of muggles.

It was then that the strangest thing that had ever happened in young Harry's life took place. He had seen feats of magic, creatures of fancy, and things that would entice the wildest imagination for years, yet none of them were as out of the ordinary, as flabbergasting, or as downright strange as what happened in that moment. Sighing, Petunia Dursley motioned towards the kitchen and said, "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?" Not knowing what else to do, Harry cautiously followed his aunt into the kitchen, and took a seat at the table. The woman reached into the cupboard and pulled out another teacup, and poured Harry a measure of the liquid from a well-polished kettle sitting on the counter. "Sugar?" she asked, in an almost singsong voice that made the hair on the back of Harry's head stand straight at attention. He nodded slightly, and Petunia added a lump of sugar to the cup. She walked over, grabbing a few pieces of paper from the counter as she did. She handed the cup to Harry, who's dumbfounded look had yet to leave his face. Sensing his complete surprise, Petunia began.

"I want you to know that...well...it's hard for me to be doing this. I mean, you're so...different and...well I think Vernon would kill me for even talking to you. And lord knows what Duddeykins would say but...it has to be said because, well..." she was having trouble continuing, and Harry was starting to get coherent thoughts back in his head. He muddled about for a moment, trying to formulate a civil question as to the string of events in the last few moments. Finally, his mind settled on one line of inquiry.

"Why? Why are you suddenly treating me like...a person?" Petunia appeared almost hurt by the statement, and tears were beginning to form in her eyes, but she continued on.

"Because you're all I have left of her. I think I realize that...more than I ever could. I just hoped all these feelings would have just...I don't know...gone away by now but...I guess they never do..." she trailed off as she tried to regain her composure, and Harry decided to remain quiet and let her continue her tale.

"We were quite close you know, your mother and I, at least until she got her letter. We were only a year apart, me being just slightly older, and things had always been more about Lily than me. She had always done better in her primaries. She had stood out as a little ballet dancer when we were both little girls...just...she was better. And when she got her letter...it was something tangible I could point to and say...different. I was just jealous and bitter." She had a far away look in her eye as she spoke, and never noticed the gaping stare she got from Harry at these sets of revelations. "I actually met some of the people she knew at school. Once or twice. She brought home this arrogant prat named Severus or some such thing when she was 14..."

"SNAPE!?" Harry couldn't contain himself at this point. His mother had brought Snape of all people home one year. His mind was trolling around, floating endlessly in a void. He couldn't be certain if everything Petunia was saying wasn't a complete and utter farce; one final attempt to humiliate him before he left the Dursley's lives for good. But the sincerity in her voice made him feel that she was telling the truth. He once again cursed his lack of ability in legilimens.

"Yes...nasty little bugger. Always moped about. He's that awful man who told me about those...what did you call them...Dementors. They didn't last much longer than that as I remember...eventually she met your father and that was that. We didn't speak but twice in the time she left Hogwarts and the time that you showed up on my doorstep."

"What happened if you don't mind me asking?" Harry had simply forgotten that this was his aunt as he was struggling with the litany of information that was coming out of her at full speed.

"The first time was to say that she had gotten married. It was at our father's funeral...spring of 77. She also said that they had some lunatic...your Lord Voldemort...chasing after them or some such thing. We had a fight, and we didn't speak again until she told me of your birth. By that point I was so enthralled with Dudley and Vernon that I didn't care about her and wanted to forget she ever existed.

When you showed up on our doorstep that November morning, it was a stark reminder...but nearly as much as the two days prior to it..." she stopped and sipped her tea, leaving Harry hanging on that note. He motioned for her to continue, but she was even closer to tears than she had been prior.

"This...this I've never shown anyone...not even Vernon. If he knew then...I don't quite know what I would do." She handed Harry a piece of paper, which upon closer inspection was actually a piece of parchment. Harry inquisitively looked at his aunt, who remained motionless. Looking down, he found a somewhat loopy script that he recognized immediately.

_To Mrs. Petunia Dursley,_

_I regret to inform you that your sister, Lily, is in the gravest of dangers. Suffice it to say, her husband and child have been marked for death by a dark wizard going by the name of Voldemort, and they have gone into hiding. _

_I bring this to your attention in the hopes that you make act as the child's guardian should something happen to his parents. He already has a godfather in the wizarding world, but I am not certain that he can be trusted. I recognize that you are not on speaking terms with your sister, and that you seem to have an innate distrust of everything associated with our world. But I ask you to take in the boy should the need arise and offer this as repayment: you will not have to be intimately involved with our world._

_You should know that your son, one Dudley Dursley, is currently listed on our register here at Hogwarts and on his eleventh birthday will be receiving an invitation to attend our school. I will rescind that invitation and not notify the boy of his magical heritage should you accept Harry into your family if called upon to do so._

_Your action shall be the reply I require._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry stared at the paper, completely dumbfounded. He didn't have words to say anything, anything at all. Petunia merely watched him, and then took the now empty teacups back to the sink. "Naturally you know what happened next." She paused a moment, allowing Harry to finally stammer...

"W-why would he do something like this?" Harry was literally in shock. He knew that one Albus Dumbledore was a master gamesman, one who seemed to be six steps ahead of everyone else, but he never thought him to be capable of this outright manipulation that had occurred here.

"I don't know," Petunia chimed in, "but regardless it isn't much of a matter now. Dudley turned out to have such limited magical potential...he's what you'd probably call a Squib I think was what Lily said once...he's only ever shown magic on three occasions. Once, when he was young, he threw such a tantrum that he caused a bowl of cereal to literally explode in Vernon's face. Vernon was particularly mad at that...only time I can remember him ever laying a hand on Duddeykins. Second was when Aunt Marge told him no...caused her to lose her hair literally. And the third was a few weeks ago, when he unlocked your door without touching it." Harry just shook his head, trying to make sense of it. Finding out he was a wizard had literally been one of the happiest days of his life, and denying someone that...it didn't make sense to Harry, even if it had potentially saved his own life.

Their conversation came to a halt as there was three soft but sharp knocks at the door. Harry turned and knew it would be Remus come to get him. He turned to hand the letter back to Petunia, who shook her head and motioned for him to keep it. He turned back to the door, leaving her there, before finally coming to a decision and saying something else.

"If you're looking for forgiveness, you won't find it. I can't forgive you for everything you did to me. But I am grateful that you took me in, even if it was against your will. Thank you for that." He paused a moment before adding, "I'm not sure what's going to happen when my birthday rolls around, but I wouldn't be here when it does. Goodbye...Aunt Petunia." On that note, Harry started to walk out of the kitchen, where once again the strangest occurance happened. Under her breath, Aunt Petunia muttered...

"be safe..."

Harry barely caught wind of it and headed for the door. Pulling out his wand he opened it to find Remus Lupin waiting patiently. "Hello Harry," he said with a somewhat cheerful smile on his face. The man was dressed in more ramshackled robes than usual, and Harry could tell that the man hadn't slept in awhile.

"Hello Professor," Harry said without a hint of emotion in his face. He held up his wand to probe the man for a moment. "Care to tell me what Neville Longbottom imagined the Boggart as when he beat it 3rd year?"

"Professor Snape in his grandmother's clothing. Definitely a rather amusing sight." Harry smiled in turn with Remus, and the werewolf motioned to his things. "I see your ready to go."

"Yes sir."

"Please Harry call me Remus. Your father would frown on such pleasantries from you. Well, if all this is settled, I say we best be off. Ron and Hermione will be expecting you at the Burrow."

"Hermione is there, why?"

"...I think that's something she'd best talk to you about herself," Remus said, the glint of humor gone from his voice. Hurrying, Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and broom while Remus grabbed his trunk and held out a hand for Harry. With a pop, the pair left number 4 Privet Drive, for what would hopefully be the last time in Harry's life.


	4. Chapter 3: Of Weasleys and House Elves

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

Chapter 3: Of Weasleys and House Elves

After a short trip through space and time, Harry found himself staring at the front visage of the closest thing to home he had ever really known. The Burrow was the same as it had always been, and Harry suspected the same as it would always be: barely standing on its foundations. Inwardly smiling, he kept close to Remus and held Hedwig's cage carefully. Remus opened the door and the pair walked in. Harry was almost immediately swept into the warm embrace of Mrs. Weasley, barely having enough time to drop his broom and Hedwig onto the floor.

"Harry! There you are dear! What took you so long? We've been worried sick about you! Please come in...come in...have a seat I'll fix you something to eat. Remus could you take Harry's things up to Ronald's room...and send him down he'll be wanting to see Harry..." Mrs. Weasley kept going on at a breakneck speed, forcing Harry to look at Remus who just had a slight smirk on his face.

"You must be famished after being at the Dursley's for several weeks. I'll just take these things upstairs." On that note Remus grabbed the trunk and broom and Hedwig's cage and headed up the stairs. Before long Harry was swept into the kitchen again by Molly and was firmly seated at the kitchen table, a plate of sandwiches magically appearing before him.

"Sorry about the mess," Molly said with a deep breath, trying to catch up on the oxygen she had expelled in the last thirty seconds. "I've just been so busy with the extra guests and everything..." Harry got a frown as if he was imposing, but Molly quickly shooed it away. "Now don't be like that! You know you're always welcome here anytime you want Harry." Harry quickly smiled and began to eat the sandwiches. Given that his food at Privet Drive had actually been slightly better than it ever had been previously, he did not dig into the food at the patented Ron Weasley "eat like you have fifteen Dementors on your tail" speed.

"Remus said that Hermione was still here. I figured she'd be heading home after the couple days she was going to stay here," Harry commented in between bites. This notion immediately silenced Molly and a grimmer disposition appeared over her face. Harry stopped eating immediately and feared for the worst. "What happened?"

"Well dear...and this is certainly not your fault...but Hermione's parents home was attacked three days ago." Harry sat up at attention. Whatever it was that had happened he didn't expect this. Immediately his mind began to assume the worst and he frantically looked about, trying to discern some good news out of this. Molly sensed his apprehension and quickly elated his worst fears. "Everyone is fine Harry. Fortunately the Order found out about the attack in advance and we were able to get Hermione and her parents out. They're staying here for the time being...seeing as how they really don't have any other place to go. Hermione is staying with Ginny as usual and her parents are using Percy's old room." Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Hermione and her family were unharmed. Hermione was the closest thing he had to a sister, and the thought of anything happening to her was...well Harry wasn't going to visit that thought anytime soon. He still grimaced at the notion that the only reason she was attacked was because of him, but he quashed that thought for the time being when he heard twin sets of footsteps coming down the staircase. He turned and saw Ron and Hermione coming into the kitchen, twin smiles lit up on their faces as they approached him. Harry noticed that they were standing a little closer together than normal, but put the thought out of his head for the moment.

"Hello Harry," Hermione greeted in her usual tone. Harry stood up and gave her a firm hug before turning and giving Ron a solid handshake. "We were worried sick. Why didn't you come sooner."

"Yeah mate," Ron chimed in. "Why would you want to stay at that horrible place any more than you'd have to?"

"Just some things I had to take care of," Harry said, sitting back down. "But I'm here now and I never plan on going back there again." Hermione and Ron joined him at the table, the latter earning a glare from his mother as he swiped one of the sandwiches off the plate in front of Harry. "Hermione, how are you doing. Mrs. Weasley told me what happened."

"Well...it was a bit of a shock to them. One minute mum was going on about this particularly nasty patient she had that day at dinner and the next we were rushing to pack everything when Ron's dad came to get us. But the important thing is we got through it..."

"But...your house. Your home. It was destroyed wasn't it?"

Hermione shrugged. "It can be rebuilt. And this place is as close to home as I can remember." Harry nodded, himself recollecting the feelings of warmth that the Burrow generated. He just hoped that Voldemort hadn't keyed into those feelings. Molly looked at the three of them quizzically, and then stood up, grabbing the now empty plate from the table.

"Well, I'll leave you three alone. You probably have a lot to talk about." On that note Molly left to go tend to the garden and clean things up as Bill and Fleur's wedding was a little less than a month away. Harry watched her leave and then glanced up at the grandfather clock that stood near the doorway. As it had been the last time he had been here, all nine of the Weasley's names stood firmly at 'Mortal Peril.' Silently, he wished for that to change.

"So," Harry began, clasping his hands together and preparing for what was likely to be a long list of happenings. "What's going on here? Is there any news that I should know about?" Both Hermione and Ron were silent at this, each looking back at the other trying not to be the first to speak. "Come on guys...I can take whatever it is." Finally, Hermione worked up the courage to speak.

"Voldemort has been running roughshod since the funeral. But the attacks appear to be random. Kind of like the Muggle terrorist attacks in the Middle East. There doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to them." Harry nodded. He figured that Voldemort would be more brazen since Dumbledore's death.

"Actually," Ron chimed in, "We know some of the people that were killed..." he trailed off at this and Harry motioned for him to continue. "Right...well about a week ago there was an attack in Wales. Dark Mark and everything. An apothecary was attacked by four Death Eaters and..." Harry could tell he was hesitant to continue, but didn't quite understand why. He didn't know anyone in Wales that he could think of off the top of his head.

"Well," Hermione continued, "it actually wasn't that bad of an attack. They actually got one of the Death Eaters...Dickinson was his name I think...and..."

"Bloody hell," Harry said with more than a twinge of annoyance in his voice. "Well you just get on with it!"

"Cho, Harry," Ron said suddenly. "They killed Cho."

Harry sat there for a moment, absorbing what had just been said. Even though he no longer held romantic feelings for Cho, he had hoped that he could reconnect and be friends with her again if at all possible. Then it dawned on him that perhaps...just perhaps...the attack on this particular apothecary wasn't quite so random. The dread came back into the pit of his stomach as he mulled over this guilt in his mind. If they got to her for that reason...than there was always the chance that...sensing that his friends were starting to worry, he quashed it down and presented a straight face. "I see. Was anyone else hurt?"

"Two or three others," Hermione responded, concern apparent in her voice. "I know you weren't...like that anymore Harry but..."

"I appreciate your concern Hermione. But...I'll be fine. What else has been happening?" Clearly Hermione and Ron had been expecting him to go into a massive guilt trip over the bit of news, as they were caught off guard by his subdued demeanor. Ron was the first to collect himself.

"Well, the Ministry is acting like a bunch of gits again. Scrimgoeur even got after dad for bringing Hermione's parents here. Threatened to sack him for that." Harry shook his head as the anger rose in Ron's voice. "And my...brother...Percy has been even worse. You know he sent mum a letter, telling her she should disassociate from dad and everything. It's mental." Harry again shook his head. He had a hard time believing that Percy would be capable of such reprehensible actions, but then again remembered how much of a corrupting influence the Ministry of Magic could be at times.

"What about Hogwarts? Any news on that front?" Harry decided for the moment to keep his previous correspondence with McGonagall a secret.

"The governors are voting next week on what to do next year," Hermione responded. "Are you sure you don't want to go back Harry? I mean, I know we have the mission to think of next year but...we'll need a base of operations. And there'll be restrictions I know but maybe there'll be something there that we overlooked. McGonagall would probably give us a pass to the restricted section if she knew it was for the mission."

Harry considered it for a moment. He knew he'd probably be safe at Hogwarts, and he definitely knew he wanted it to stay open for the sake of a certain 6th year redhead he didn't want tagging along on their missions. "I'd still say no Hermione," he finally said. "As to a base of operations, I already have an answer to that." He let out a small swallow of air as he thoughts came to his answer for a base.

"What's that mate?"

"Grimmauld. We can use that as our base. Even with Dumbledore dead the Fidelius charm is still in effect; we just need to transfer the ward so that the address can be given out to anyone who might need it."

"But...the Order. Won't they mind us using their HQ."

"I should hope not, considering it is my house." At that notion Harry told the tale of inheriting Sirius' house and everything in it. Ron's eyes went agape at this.

"You own your _own house!?_ Blimey the whole thing is yours?"

"Yes Ronald, and he paid a heavy price for it."

"Oh...right. Sorry."

"It's alright." Harry shrugged it off. Given everything that had happened, going back to Grimmauld was at the bottom of his concern list. "Speaking of the Black family tree, I believe I've had a Hermione-esque breakthrough." Hermione slightly brushed at the term. "I was looking over a bunch of stuff that related to the Horcruxes and..." he trailed off as he heard another pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned to look and what he saw made his heart skip a beat. There was Ginny, radiant as ever, just staring back at him.

"Hi Harry," she managed to say barely much above a whisper. She then turned to Hermione, "Hermione, where did you put that book I lent you?" Hermione pointed over to the coffee table in the sitting room, where Ginny walked over and grabbed the book. Without missing much of a beat, though glancing back at Harry with a bit of a pang crossing her face, she went back upstairs.

"What was that all about," Ron asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

"Nothing," Harry replied, drawing in a deep breath. "It's...complicated." Ron stared down Harry for a moment, but relented. "Anyway, as I was saying. I think I found out who R.A.B. was. Sirius' brother Regulus! Remember Sirius told us he was a Death Eater."

"That's right!" Hermione exclaimed, slapping her forehead in the process. "That's so bloody obvious. Why didn't we think of that?!"

"I don't know. In retrospect it seemed rather anti-climactic. Now we just need to figure out where the real locket is."

The trio continued running down a few facts that had happened before he had arrived at the Burrow, but before long it was time for dinner. Harry sat at the table, for once not brimming full of Weasley's, and observed. He sat next to Remus who had joined them this evening at Molly's insistence. at the far end from Ginny, not trying to draw any attention from her, while Hermione sat next to her. Next to Hermione were two people that Harry had never been formally introduced.

"Well I must say," the man immediately next to Hermione said with a smile, "I'm glad to finally meet you in person and sit down to have a proper meal. David Granger, DDS." Harry accepted the man's handshake. "This is my wife Josephine." The prim woman smiled and Harry smiled back. He could tell exactly where Hermione got her looks from, as she was a near spitting image of her mother from the bushy hair right down to the omnipresent inquisitive look on his face. From behind Harry there was what sounded like an explosion, coming from the fireplace. Harry turned to find Arthur Weasley emerging from said fireplace, idly dusting the soot off his robes.

"Hello Weasleys..." the man said with a cheerful smile, "And Grangers...and Remus...and Harry too! It's good to see you again son!"

"Thank you sir. It's good to be here again."

The rest of the dinner was relatively uneventful safe for one bit of shocking news from Arthur. Apparently a small cadre of Death Eaters had launched another attack, this time in an isolated corner of Diagon Alley. No one had been killed, but one Amos Diggory had been severely injured in the melee.

"I tell you," Arthur said, his normally sunny disposition dampened slightly, "It's getting worse and worse out there. Death Eaters come and go as they please on Diagon Alley. The Ministry can't handle it all. They're spread thin enough as it is." Harry darkened at this assessment.

"The question though Arthur is why," Remus chimed in, wiping his mouth off with a napkin as he did. "What does he stand to gain from these suicidal runs? He inflicts minimal damage if any at all. His Death Eaters wind up being captured. It certainly wasn't like this during the First War."

"If I may be so bold," the whole table turned to the seated Muggle at the center of the table, "But it sounds to me like this Voldemort," there was a collective wince from several of the gathered parties, "Sorry, You-Know-Who, isn't unlike a terrorist."

"A terrorist?" Arthur asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Yes. They're really a bad lot. They attack not just through blowing stuff up, but they use fear to try and influence the society in which they live in. From what I can tell this bloke is doing the same thing, only with magic instead of bombs." Harry raised an eyebrow as he considered the man. Here was just about the most accurate assessment of Voldemort that he had heard that night and it had come from the person who knew the least about him. They all considered his words a moment before Arthur continued.

"Be that as it may, the Ministry is still taxed to try and stop him. The best they can do is react when he attacks. We have virtually no information coming from his Death Eaters. We were just lucky to be tipped off on the attack on your home." Arthur motioned to the Grangers before continuing. "I honestly don't know what we're going to do if things continue like this."

Dinner died off quickly as little else was offered in conversation. Before long Harry and company had made their way back to Ron's room. As Harry passed by Ginny's room on the way upstairs, he half-stepped past, debating with himself on whether or not to go in there. Muddled thoughts on everything that had transpired still clouded his mind, and he struggled to make some sense out of it. Once he found himself sitting on his bed in Ron's room, he shook out his head and picked in on the conversation Hermione had started.

"So, I was thinking more about Regulus Black and that locket, and I think I might have a clue as to where it is. Remember in 5th year that locket we couldn't open and that Sirius was going to throw out?" Harry's eyes widened as a goofy smile split across his face.

"Brilliant! And I know just the person who would have stopped it from being thrown out. Kreacher!" Hermione glanced over at Harry and muttered something about elves rights but neither Harry nor Ron picked up on it.

"Exactly. I bet the little git saved it. Probably holed it up in his room or something. Or kept it with him."

"Looks like I'll have to pay my house elf a visit next time I'm at Hogwarts."

A/N: Reviews would be appreciated. Would be nice to know that people are interested in this and I'm not just blabbering to myself.


	5. Chapter 4: In the Pale of Moonlight

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

Chapter 4: In the Pale of Moonlight

Night had fallen on the comfort of the Burrow, and the half-moon shone down with light that glittered against the slight amount of fog that had gathered in the area. Harry sat in the garden, glancing up at the stars, his mind awander. The events of the last twenty-four hours were still fresh in his mind, from his conversation with his aunt to the information of attacks that had come upon his arrival at the Weasley residence, and Harry was struggling to make heads or tails of it all. Silently he kept watch on the various stars, absorbing the whole of nature around him. He often felt most at peace when he did this, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the twilight air.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to replay scenes from the last few months in his head. He started with, but quickly moved past, Dumbledore's death and funeral. He flashed past the scene at the white tomb where he had broken up with Ginny. He paused and complimented himself on a good punch when he had socked his uncle in the jaw. He then came to the events of the day and replayed them three or four times. He allowed himself to absorb the information and file it away for later consideration. Many things he wasn't sure if they were completely true or not. Other things he would have to have a long talk about. This in particular was Ginny.

Just seeing her again was causing his mind to spin in circles. Prior to today he had been able to justify his actions as a noble cause. She would be in danger anyway, but at least she wouldn't be in that much danger. The logic was sound, especially in light of the recent attacks on his former girlfriend Cho and one of his best friends Hermione. As long as that link between Harry and Voldemort was open, anyone he cared about was in danger. He had to shut them out of his life as much as possible.

But then the image of the sullen face staring at him from the staircase earlier that afternoon caused all of the logic in his mind to effectively be thrown out the window. In that one instant it took every fiber of his self-control to not run up to her and beg for forgiveness. His mind focused on her eyes in that brief moment in time. They had lacked the passion and fire that he knew and loved. Perhaps it was an even greater crime to deny her that passion.

Growling internally, Harry leaned forward and stared down at the ground. Nothing was making sense anymore, and anytime he tried to put some sense to it and move on he was held back by those images and feelings. He cursed his inability to quash his emotions at sensitive times. It was why he had never been able to master mind magic. Though Dumbledore had given him a book on the subject in the last summer and Harry had taken to try and get a firmer grasp on the subject, he had given up hope of being able to master either legilimency or occulumency. Looking back up he found that a few clouds had filtered into the night sky, but didn't obscure the light of the moon in the slightest. A small rustle alerted him to another's presence, and he turned and found Lupin walking in the garden.

"Hello Harry," the werewolf smiled, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all Professor." Harry smiled and moved to the left to clear room on the bench. He offered Lupin a seat, which the man took graciously. Upon sitting down, he looked at Harry with a slightly stern look on his face.

"Harry, I told you to call me Remus. It's been four years since I was your teacher and besides, your father would frown own such pleasantries from you. He's probably wondering where we went wrong raising such a polite young man." Harry could barely contain a grin as Remus' look was shattered by the hilarity of the seriousness. After a few moments of silent laughter Remus continued. "Seriously Harry. Your almost of age and you might as well get used to addressing me as something other than Sir."

"Fine then Remus," Harry said with a grin, "Have it your way." There was another moment of laughter, followed by a few seconds of silence. Harry regarded the man next to him and considered his features. The last time he had seen him, on the car ride to the Dursley's, he had looked more dissheveld than ever. Even now he appeared to be a little more worse for the wear, clad in robes that had more than a few years of wear and tear put into them. But still, there was something more about him, a light that shone in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Harry thought to ask him about it, but Remus interrupted his train of thought.

"So Harry, I didn't get a chance to ask you with all of the hullabaloo today. How are you feeling? I mean, how are you really feeling." Harry knew what the man meant with the open-ended question, and he was reluctant to answer. It wasn't that Harry didn't trust Remus with the knowledge, it was that he didn't exactly feel like opening up to anyone at that particular moment. Still, Harry knew, something needed to be said, if only to satiate the man's worried feelings for the time being.

"Alright I suppose," he finally said after a few seconds of contemplating his response. "Given everything that's happened I'm not in the best of moods but..." he trailed off, hoping that would be a satisfactory answer. When he saw out of the corner of his eye the examining look that his former professor was giving him he knew it wasn't. "Really. I'm just a little tired tonight that's all." Harry looked up, trying to play as innocent as possible.

"You never have been a good liar Harry," Remus said, a smirk appearing across his face. "You get that from your father. He couldn't lie to save his life, especially around those he cared about." Harry turned away and matched Remus' smirk. "Now come on, tell me what's troubling you."

Harry again remained silent as he sifted through his thoughts. There were many questions he could ask, but some of them Remus likely could not answer. One in particular that had been nagging him since the conversation with his aunt surfaced first. "Remus, my mother and Professor Snape...were they ever...involved?" Remus was taken aback by the question, and seemed befuddled with a response.

"Why would you even ask such a thing," Lupin finally managed to stammer out. On this Harry recounted the tale of his aunt and the conversation they had earlier in the day. He mentioned about his aunt finally treating him halfway decent, and actually managing to be civil with him. He also told Remus of the letter he had seen in Dumbledore's own writing that had confirmed that his cousin was of magical heritage. When he was finished, he left the werewolf stunned and silent.

"Well...um...in answer to your original question, yes they were together for a time." Remus quickly added, "but it only lasted for a few months at best. It was over one summer, and to be quite honest I thought it was more out of pity for Snape than it was actual relations." Remus stopped and contemplated the ground before continuing. "Your mother and Snape remained on relatively good terms after they broke up...until that day at the O.W.L. exam. You've seen that memory." Harry nodded in affirmation. "Like you your mother was extremely sensitive to disloyalty and was equally hurt by insults. When Severus called her a mudblood...she didn't speak to him for years afterwards."

Harry discontinued the line of inquiry, though he now had more reason to hate Snape than he did before. Anyone who hurt either his father or his mother was not on good terms with him, as far as Harry was concerned. But what about other family? "Remus...about Dudley...why would Professor Dumbledore do something like that?"

"I'm certain Dumbledore thought he was doing the right thing at the time," Remus replied, still with his face planted firmly on the grass. "We often have difficulty trying to figure that out; determining what is right and wrong. I'm certain Dumbledore struggled with it until the very end." Harry gave a small nod as he considered the words. "But enough about that...let's talk more about you. I'm certain that a conversation with your aunt, unsettling as it might've been, is the only reason you've been moping about all evening." Harry grimaced. He'd rather stare down a hundred dementors than have this conversation right now. Going through his mind he planned a strategic approach.

"How's Tonks," Harry began, appearing to want to change the subject. Remus looked at him a moment before proceeding to answer.

"She's well, as well as can be expected at least. It's taken some getting used to but I think we're starting to act like a normal couple now." He paused before adding, "She actually stayed with me during the full moon a few nights ago. We were at Hogwarts with Bill and Fleur for the change and she stayed with me throughout. Even though I had taken my potion, her presence helped calm me."

"How's Bill handling the...you know."

"Quite well actually. He barely loses his mind when the full moon arises and has minor cosmetic changes underneath it." Remus paused again, considering the next statement, but Harry beat him to it. If Harry was going to have to talk about this, he'd better do so in a way comfortable to him.

"Does it scare you when you transform around her? Aren't you afraid she'll get hurt?" Remus considered Harry for a moment, and smiled briefly.

"There's always that chance I suppose. Badly brewed potion, improper alignment of the moon and sun, that sort of thing. But lately I find that worrying about things that are out of your control doesn't do anyone a bit of good." Remus considered it for a moment again before adding, "What has this got to do with you?"

Harry swallowed a gulp of air and continued. He never felt comfortable talking about his feelings, even around those he knew he could implicitly trust. "Well sir," Harry didn't catch himself as he fell into more familiar speech patterns, "It's just that...I don't want the people around me getting hurt anymore." Harry quickly decided to leave out the particulars and speak in more generalized terms. "All my life people have died trying to protect me or because they were just my friends..." Remus looked to interrupt but Harry continued.

"Everyone keeps telling me there's this big thing I have to do but I can't if all the people I care about wind up dead in the end. I can't...I just..." Harry trailed off, his emotional Pandora's box having crept open a little too far. There was a long silence as Harry brought his emotions under control, and Remus simply gave the man a moment to collect his thoughts before responding.

"Harry, it's not fair what everyone expects you to do. I freely admit it. It's not fair...and to tell you the truth it's not right in my opinion. No one should have to bear the burdens you've had to carry. No one should have to...suffer like you have suffered." There was a pause before Remus leaned down next to Harry and looked him square in the eye. "But regardless of whether or not it's fair, sadly it's the way things are...and you can't be doing this to yourself Harry. Trust me I know. A depression can grip at your very soul and eat away at you till your nothing but an empty shell." Remus stood up, leaving Harry to contemplate the position his former teacher had once occupied.

"In a way a dementor is better," he continued, his back turned to Harry. "At least then it comes all at once. A depression simply takes hold and won't let go, slowly taking away bits and pieces of you till one morning you wake up and find that you've been consumed by anger and sorrow." He looked back at Harry, a small twinkle of a tear in his left eye. "When your parents died and it appeared that Sirius had murdered Peter and betrayed us all, I sank into a dark depression. For three years I was essentially nothing but a disheveled wreck. I withdrew from the world, hid myself away, and felt sorry for myself. I even contemplated killing myself once or twice, just to make the pain go away." A shadow was cast across the man's face, one that Harry could tell wasn't caused by the light of the moon.

"What brought you back," Harry finally asked.

"I just decided not to be depressed anymore." Remus resumed his seat, leaving Harry questioning the motivation. It was impossible for someone to ignore there feelings. "That is to say," the man clarified, "I decided to do something about it. I got help, talked with people, visited with the friends I still had. I realized that James wouldn't want one of his best friends becoming a living corpse. So...in spite of everything...I continued on and eventually broke out of my depression.

"You are lucky Harry, you haven't reached the depths of sorrow that I did. But if you continue on this path alone. If you shut out the rest of the world and shoulder your burdens on your own, they, and not Voldemort, will be the death of you." He added this last point emphatically, trying to impress it on Harry. For his part, Harry had absorbed everything and found that the discussion was, after all, helpful. He knew what he had to do now, but he wasn't quite sure how he was going to do it.

"Thank you Remus. I suppose I should be off to bed then, it's getting rather late."

"Good night Harry," the werewolf replied as Harry made his way back into the house. With a smile he added, "Your friends are always here Harry, don't forget it."

_Later that night..._

There was a slight buzz that awoke Harry with a start. He frantically looked around, his wand sitting nearby jumping to his hand on command. Fumbling about in the darkness Harry, found his glasses sitting on the table next to him and put them on. Shaking his head clear he took stock of his surroundings. He was back at Privet Drive...no he was at the Burrow. The buzzsaw in the other corner of the room had clued him in to that much. He glanced out the window and quickly determined that it was still night, probably 2 or 3 in the morning. Sighing he placed his wand back down on the table and removed his glasses temporarily, rubbing the sleep out of them with his free hand. Replacing his glasses he again tried to remember the dream that had forced him back to the land of the waking. Vague images slipped beyond his grasp, and soon all that was left was an empty feeling that he had forgotten something important. Sighing again, he knew that sleep would not return this night.

He stood up and quietly stretched to work the remaining kinks out of his muscles. Throwing on a pair of pajama pants over his boxers he glanced over at his current roommate and gave a slight smirk. The man could sleep through Armageddon and simply roll over asking for 5 more minutes. Making sure not to disturb him in the slightest, Harry placed his wand up his sleeve and crept out of the room, opening the door slightly and closing it just as gently. He traced his way through the hallway, avoiding the boards he knew for a fact had a loud squeak to them, and made it to the downstairs in relative quiet. Grabbing his jacket which was hanging on the coat rack next to the door, he silently slid out the back door and took a walk into the woods, not heading anywhere in particular.

He wondered amongst nature once more, trying to come to peace with what had transpired earlier. Remus' warning had made perfect sense to him, and had actually struck deep in a chord that had been gnawing away at him for sometime. Harry was prophesied to have the power of which the Dark Lord knows not, which Dumbledore had said was love. If that was the case, than how could Harry walk around becoming an emotional block, feeling nothing and shutting himself off from the world.

"No," Harry said to no one but himself. He stared up at the sky and resolved to feel more fully. To feel as best he could. Just...to live. He then look down and nearly chuckled at how much easier that was said than done. He was still confused about a great many things, and the first thing on his list of objectives was quite a mystery to him: how to confront Ginny again.

He had half-considered simply crawling on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, while at the same time showering her with gifts and anything else she might have wanted. In the back of his mind he knew it might come to that in the end, and he was prepared to enact such drastic measures should it become necessary. More appropriately he hoped they could simply have a chance to talk about their feelings, though what to say was something that he couldn't quite formulate in his head either.

Harry smirked at the irony. He was armed with love and he didn't know the first thing about it. Shrugging his shoulders to the empty forest before him, he continued walking along a previously beaten path, keeping his thoughts to himself. He had no destination in mind, and his own silent internal clock told him it was long before he would have to start back for the Burrow to make sure that they didn't miss him. Before long his wandering had led him to a small lake at the edge of the woods. He had never been here before, but the scene was oddly calming. The half moon shone out over the water, which was stirred by the slightest of breezes. In the distance he could hear crickets chirping and the sounds of a few animals scurrying about in the woods surrounding the small clearing. Harry took in a deep breath of the early morning air. It had been abnormally cold the last few days, allowing for a few brisk mornings despite the summer air. Content if but for a moment, Harry leaned over and grabbed a rock. He idly tossed it into the lake, seeing it skip across the water before finally coming to a stop. He repeated the process two or three more times, each time with the same result. Idly he tried to do it again, this time without anything but his mind. He cleared his thoughts and attempted to focus his mind on the rock at his feet. _'Lift,'_ he thought to himself, steeling himself into the action and trying to make it reality. As he forced his mind more, reaching out with his powers, the stone began to stir on the ground, moving slightly, before finally levitating a few inches off the ground. It hovered for a moment, before suddenly collapsing as Harry let out a deep breath of air and released his grip. Harry took several more deep breaths, and felt a gleam of sweat that had built up across his brow. After a few moments he caught his breath and mentally filed away to ask Hermione about wandless magic. He had an inkling it would help in the final battle. There was a snap from behind him, the sound of a twig breaking in the brush. Harry turned quickly and felt his wand fall from his sleeve into his hand. He turned to greet whatever it was that was coming towards him.

Emerging from the forest was a venerable angel in Harry's mind. Her skin shone in the pale of the moonlight, while the gentle summer breeze blew her red hair ever so softly against the side of her face. She was clad in normal attire, jeans and a shirt with a jacket on for protection from the abnormal cold. In an instant her eyes met Harry's, and he was trying desperately not to get lost in them. A few moments passed before Harry could even mutter out, "H-Hey Ginny."

"Hi," she responded, barely above a whisper. She silently walked closer to the shore of the lake and gazed out over the water's horizon. The chirping of the crickets had stopped, but it was still far from daybreak. "Couldn't sleep?" she offered, to which Harry simply nodded. "Me neither."

There was a long pause and Harry wasn't quite sure how long each of them stood there, standing a good distance away from one another. It could have been 5 minutes. It could have been an hour. As far as Harry knew it could have been the breadth of eternity. Finally he turned and steeled himself at what needed to happen next. "Ginny, I..." his breath caught as she turned to look at him. He caught her eyes again, still devoid of that fire and passion that he had seen during the school year, and his heart ached for it. Overriding his heart, he tried to keep a cool head and power on through.

"I...I was talking with Professor Lupin today and..." he once again fumbled with his words. He planted his eyes firmly to the ground, trying to keep his focus and not get lost in the ocean of Ginny's eyes again. He quickly surmised that he was losing ground in this fight, and in an act of desperation decided to say the first thing that popped into his head. "Ginny...I threw away the best thing that I ever had in my life. I was too blind and stupid to realize what I was doing. And I just want to say that...even if you don't forgive me for being such an idiot...I'm sorry. I just want to protect you. I care too much about you to see anything bad happen to you." Harry stopped, and took a seat on a rather large rock in the middle of the lakefront beach, his back turned to where Ginny had been standing. He sniffed away a few tears, and his pessimistic mind was working overtime telling him that he had just blown the best thing he ever had. He heard a few footsteps and the shuffling of gravel from behind him, and he grimaced as he turned to look. There he saw Ginny, down on one knee on the ground, her eyes staring firmly at him, a small smile creeping across her face.

"You don't need to say your sorry about anything Harry James Potter," she replied, with a small tear escaping her right eye. "Just know that I'm going to be here, whether you want me to be or not." Harry reached forward and cupped her cheek, drawing her a bit closer.

"I want you to be there," he finally said, his soul feeling a thousand pounds lighter. In a moment the two of them interlocked in a passionate, elongated kiss. The need for air brought them back for a moment, before Harry stood and embraced Ginny as if she were the last thing on earth keeping him from the darkness. In a way, perhaps she was. Resting his head on hers, he added, "More than anything I want you to be there."

A/N: A bit of a fluffy ending I know, but this isn't going to focus on romance for the most part, just in bits and pieces. Review at your discretion.


	6. Chapter 5: Wedded Bliss

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

Chapter 5: Wedded Bliss

They had walked for what seemed like an eternity and a intolerably brief amount of time following there embrace. Their hands firmly clasped together, Harry and Ginny didn't discuss anything, they simply walked together, not even saying a word. They were content to do this for hours on end. Finally they realized as the sun started to creep above the horizon that they'd need to be returning soon. Sighing, Harry and Ginny turned back and headed for the Burrow. Along the way, Harry mulled things over in his mind. If she was going to help, he'd need to let her in on certain things.

"Ginny," he said matter-of-factly as they neared the house. She turned and looked at him, a smile still present on her face. "There's somethings that I need to tell you. About Voldemort. About me. We just need to sit down for a few hours and talk about it all." Ginny turned to contemplate it and then turned back, an impish grin on her face.

"Than it will be a date Mr. Potter," she replied, planting a small peck on the side of his cheek and causing him to nearly fall over with jelly-like legs. "Say later this afternoon, over by the oak tree."

"Fine...w-whatever..." his mind was still swimming with these newly reawoken feelings in his body and they didn't quite have the release he needed. At this Ginny smiled back and broke away from his grasp and started jogging toward the Burrow, leaving Harry to stare at her in dumbfounded wonder.

And so it was later that afternoon that Harry and Ginny had each taken a seat underneath the old oak tree and Harry began telling her the tale of his magical life to that point. From the moment that Hagrid had knocked down the door at the Hut on the Rock to the fall of Dumbledore the year before. At each point in the winding story Ginny sat enthralled with it all. She gave laughter at hearing his joy at getting Christmas presents for the first time. She sat morosely when he recounted the tale of the Chamber of Secrets and the pain he had felt at knowing he was going to die. She grew angry at Wormtail at the tale of Pettigrew's betrayal. She rode the emotional roller coaster, and sat up in near shock when he recounted the story of Voldemort's origin...and the identity of the Half-Blood Prince.

"So let me get this straight," she said, trying to quizzically figure it all out, "The champion of pure-bloods and his little friend are actually half-bloods?" Harry nodded, causing Ginny to laugh out loud.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh come on, you don't see the irony in that?" Harry just shrugged, a half-smile on his face.

"A little...I guess. It doesn't really make a difference to me." He got that faraway look that Ginny recognized immediately as the one he got when he was contemplating the trials yet to come. She moved around and sat next to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Promise me one thing," she said, with an open-ended sigh at the end. "Promise me that no matter what happens, prophecy or not, you'll let us help you. You have friends Harry...people that care about you...people that..." she paused and Harry questioned what she was going to say next. Before he could go forward thought, she looked up at him and repeated, "promise me that?"

"I promise." On that note Harry leaned forward and kissed her deeply for the second time that day. He idly thought to himself that this was nothing like when he had kissed Cho in 5th year. This was much more emotionally involved. It was tangible, something he could wrap his arms around and embrace fully. He resolved not to let that feeling escape him ever again.

Later that day, Harry was alone once more, having finished a much more welcomed dinner with the Weasley clan. He had wandered off into the woods again, leaving the Burrow behind to collect his thoughts. A twig crushing behind him clued him into the presence of someone else, and he turned to find a mop of red hair following him.

"Hey Ron," Harry said, with a smile on his face. The smile quickly faded when he saw the taller man walk with a serious demeanor etched firmly across his face. Stopping his walk, Harry waited for Ron to catch up, and then continued along the path next to him.

"Hey mate," Ron replied with an even tone to his voice. They continued that way for a few moments, before Ron added, "I see that you and my sister are getting along better."

Harry was taken aback. He wasn't quite sure how Ron would react to this bit of news, and he didn't fancy coming to blows with his best friend right now. "Uh...yeah. We kinda worked things out."

"Looks like more than that." Ron stopped, and Harry turned to look and could tell that the boy was fighting to keep his temper in check. "Look...I'm happy for the both of you and there's no one I'd rather she was with. But..." his eyes dropped and his voice grew much more intense, "If you hurt her like that you're going to wish you weren't the Boy Who Lived..." the finality of that statement caused Harry to have a quick shudder of fear. He looked and tried to be reassuring to his friend.

"I've gotten over that," Harry responded, himself fighting to keep his own temper in check, "and I give you my word on my parent's graves that I will never do anything...ANYTHING...to hurt her like that again." Ron contemplated it for a moment, before smiling a bit.

"Guess I can start calling you a brother-in-law then," Ron chuckled as did Harry, who was trying to hide the massive blush creeping across his face. The two of them started back for the Burrow, engaging in as friendly of conversation as they could manage with the dark times yet to come.

The next month at the Burrow was nearly a blur. The preparations were being made for a wedding on a massive scale. Given the Weasley's status within the wizarding world and the general fact that people hadn't had anything to really celebrate for quite some time, it had turned into a party of some importance. Molly was actually having to turn some guests away who had nothing to do with either the bride or the groom, though she was a bit flattered when she received the request from the Minister himself to attend.

In the sweep of it all Harry was enjoying just simply spending time with his friends. Hours would go by, the times he wasn't spending with Ginny, where he would simply sit back and watch Ron and Hermione engage in the usual friendly banter that had been the hallmark of their relationship for years. There was something more there though, something, deeper, that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on. He had long suspected that feelings had developed between his two best friends, and it didn't bug him at all. But the closer they got the further they would push apart when they wanted to hide their feelings. One day, the day before the wedding, feeling particularly mischievous and at the same time tired of the usual routine, Harry decided to have some fun at the expense of his friends.

They were arguing about some such thing, Harry wasn't even quite sure what it was, but Hermione as usual was using her logic-minded approach to the problem while Ron wasn't able to get his thick skull around whatever it was that they were talking about. Harry absorbed the scene and when the moment was right, went into action.

"Oh come off it the both of you," he stood up, feigning frustration. At his outburst the concerned parties stopped their quibbling and looked at him half-surprised. "Look, I'm gonna just go read a book or something. If you two are gonna snog, just get it over with and do it already and stop beating around the bloody bush!" At that he stormed out of the room, trying to maintain as close to a semblance of an angry look as he could. Even then his facade was failing slightly. After he was sure he had left them speechless, he crept back and placed his ear next to the door. From the other side he could hear Ron speak first.

"Why does he think I'm beating a bush?" It took all of Harry's self-control not to break out laughing. He turned and saw Bill heading down the other way, staring at him with his head cocked slightly.

"What's so funny Harry?" Harry motioned for Bill to keep his voice down and then crept over to Bill to join him. The two of them started down the stairs, leaving Ron and Hermione to do whatever it was they were going to do. Harry motioned back to where his two friends were residing when they got a safe distance away.

"Those two," he said with a sigh, "You'd think they were already married or something the way they get on sometimes." Bill just smiled.

"Don't tell them I told you this but...Mum and Dad are the exact same way sometimes." Harry smiled at this and the comparison made sense in his mind. Slowly the two of them made their way outside where a large white archway covered in flowers had been set up with two aisles of alabaster white chairs had been set up along the side. More white flowers decorated the sides of the red velvet carpet that had been in the Weasley family for years for just such occasions. Harry took in the sight quickly and then stared at Bill, who was taking it in with a bit of awe in his eyes.

"Just think," he said finally, "After tomorrow I won't have to spend another day of my life without the woman I love. It's almost scary if you think about it." Harry nodded in affirmation, but Bill didn't take notice and continued rambling with a distant look in his eyes. "But at the same time I can't wait." Bill was away for a few more moments mentally before shaking his head and looking down at Harry, who had a cocked eyebrow on his face. "I'm sorry, I was just a little lost there for a moment." Harry laughed, as did Bill, and Harry imagined that he looked the same way whenever Ginny seemed to pop up in his mind.

The actual wedding ceremony was much more elaborate than Harry had ever seen. He didn't know of much in the way of weddings, other than being forced to watch the wedding video from his aunt and uncle once or twice, but this one had much more pomp and circumstance to it. It also helped that it wasn't done at a sleazy Muggle-chapel where you paid in cash for the license to be married. As the ceremony moved along and the representative from the Ministry continued through his long speech, Harry turned and made a quick cursory check of the people there.

On one whole side of the aisle was Fleur's family, most of whom he didn't recognize. He pointed out a few of the girls he knew from the time that Beauxboton's was at Hogwarts in his 4th year, but primarily he was in the dark on many of their identities. On the groom's side he found Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, both beaming with pride that the day had seemed to go off without a hitch. Further back he could make out Fred and George, who had decked out in there finest for the day. Behind them were the Grangers, neither one knowing much of what was going on but admiring their daughter as a bridesmaid nonetheless. Far in the back Harry could make out Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, who had shunned her bubblegum pink hair for the occasion in favor of a more conservative brown look. Next to them, slightly off from the rest, was Alastor Moody, his mad-eye spinning this way and that checking for trouble. Far in the back was the Ministry contingent, including Scrimgoeur, Percy, and a woman who made his blood curdle in Dolores Umbridge. Harry turned back to the ceremony at the sight of her, his hand slightly burning.

Before long the ceremony was over and the festivities of the reception were to begin. Shortly thereafter the Minister, having put in his appearance for the papers and good press, and his contingent were leaving. Harry looked at the space they once occupied, and felt a bit of relief that they were gone. They seemed to be a damper on the festivities elsewhere. Before long the crowd had mingled down to a few and the Gryffindor quartet found themselves sitting at a table, each with a plate full of Molly Weasley's famous cooking in their possession. Ron at first began to dig into the plate at the usual tenacity in which he would attack any meal presented to him freely, but a gaze from Hermione brought him down to a more civilized pace. Harry cocked an eyebrow at this, but continued to eat as well. A few moments later, he was approached by someone he had not been wanting to have a conversation with for sometime. He looked up, past the red tartan robes, and stared into the face of Minerva McGonagall.

"Hello Mr. Potter," she said with a half-smile on her face, before bidding greetings to the other assembled party. Turning back to Harry her face took on a more somber tone. "Harry, I was wondering if I could speak with you a moment."

"Sure Professor," Harry replied, setting his plate aside. He stood up and walked with her to the edge of the yard, away from the remainder of the guests. Once they were a safe distance away, Harry asked, "What did you want to talk about?" She paced back and forth, her mind formulating something to be said. Whatever it was, and Harry had a notion as to what it was, he wasn't sure he was going to like it.

"The governors met recently and came to a decision concerning the future of Hogwarts. After much deliberation and heated debate...they've decided to re-open the school next year." Part of Harry breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that his friends would be safe at the school next year. The other part dreaded what he knew was coming next. "Have you had a chance to think more about my request Harry?" Harry looked away from her and stared off into the waning sunlight. It was near dusk, and he really was in no mood to discuss this.

"Yes," he began bluntly, "And I can't say I appreciate being used like some good luck charm." He turned back to Minerva with a slightly cold look to his eye. "I mean, you're asking me to sit around while Voldemort goes around killing more innocent people. I'm the only one who knows how to beat him. I have to do something about it. I can't shut out my responsibility."

"I realize that Harry, but you have your own future to think about too. You can't make your whole life just about beating one dark wizard." Harry considered it for a moment, and nearly smirked as part of the prophecy flashed into his mind. _'neither may live while the other survives.'_ He looked back at her, and allowed her to continue her argument.

"And have you thought about your friends and their futures? Regardless of whether you want them to, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and dare I say Miss Weasley will likely follow your lead in whatever you do. They deserve to have a life too." Harry hadn't considered this. He knew Ron and Hermione would follow him, so would Ginny probably, but he didn't consider the consequences. "Plus," McGonagall continued, "if You-Know-Who attacks Hogwarts again, he'll attack in force. Many of the staff are gifted witches and wizards, and the Ministry has agreed to have Auror protection year-round, but if it comes to that, we'll need all the help we can get." The severity of her tone clued Harry in to what was going on.

"You expect the students to...fight?" Harry was mildly shocked at this admission. He knew that the possibility would arise, but didn't expect such candor about such a possibility from her.

"I don't expect them to," Minerva said, sighing, "but...certain individuals have alerted me to the possibility." She got a slightly far off look in her eyes that Harry didn't recognize immediately, but before he could inquire more Minerva shook her head slightly and looked him squarely again.

"I can grant you and your friends certain privileges within the castle. Albus told me that you had a mission and that you would likely need to travel to find certain things pursuant to that mission. I am prepared to offer you and your friends your own quarters for the year, away from your classmates." Harry absorbed the information and motioned for her to continue. "I'm going to name Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger Head Boy and Head Girl respectively for the year, not because they're your friends but because of their own accomplishments, and you and Miss Weasley can share their quarters should you find it necessary.

"I'm also prepared to grant you access to the Restricted Section of the Library should it be necessary, so long as you don't abuse the privilege. In exchange, all I ask is that you return. As I said in my letter, you are possibly the most influential wizard aside from the Minister, and you may even trump him. People will feel more comfortable and safe if you make them think it's safer. Please Harry, consider it." Harry turned away again and looked out over the woods that had offered much clarity a month earlier. In his heart, after all she had said, something he was thinking all along had to be done. Silently, he turned back and a smile appeared on his face.

"Then you can expect me back next year Professor." A wave of relief washed over McGonagall, and a smile appeared.

"Thank you Harry, for everything. Now, if you don't mind, I have a few of these to hand out to the assembled party." She reached into her robes and handed Harry a letter he instantly recognized and brought much joy to his heart. He looked at the letter, and smiled that it was no longer addressed to Number 4 Privet Drive. Keeping it close by, he moved back towards the table where his friends had gathered, finishing their second round of food.

"Hey mate," Ron said, his mouth full of something or other. "What's that," he asked with a curious look on his face, pointing to the letter in Harry's hand.

"This is my letter for next year. Hogwarts is reopening." The group smiled at the thought, but Hermione leaned forward and whispered to Harry.

"But, I thought you said that..." Harry simply raised a hand and cut her off.

"Forget what I said," he explained, with a small grin on his face, "There isn't a better place for us this year." Hermione was going to continue when McGonagall walked by the table, three more letters being produced.

"I trust Harry has told you three the good news." There was a collective nod from the group. "Then I believe these are for you." From nearby Mr & Mrs Weasley had come closer to the table, slowly followed by the Grangers. The three teenagers took there letters and each of them thanked the professor, who excused herself to attend to other matters. Ginny was the first to open her letter, and as she did a small badge with a P came tumbling out. She looked at it curiously, before a grin came across her face. She was almost instantly engulfed by Mrs. Weasley in a hug.

"Oh goodness! Another prefect! Ginny dear congratulations!" Arthur merely beamed down with pride at his youngest child, as he looked over at Hermione, who was quickly looking over her letter, glancing at it several times. She suddenly stopped, and tears were beginning to flow freely. At this, her mother leaned over and comforted her.

"What is it dear," she asked, concern apparent in her voice. Hermione looked up, with a smile bridging her own face entirely.

"I've been named Head Girl." There was another round of congratulations and cheers. Harry smiled and looked at Ron. This reaction was going to be priceless.

"As if there was any doubt," Ron sardonically replied, ripping into his letter with a smirk on his face. He glanced down at the letter, read it, and quickly his eyes went as wide as galleons. He flipped back to the envelope, to make sure he was reading it right, and then flipped back to the letter and re-read it. Arthur, noticing his behavior, made his way over.

"What's wrong son..." he trailed off as he read the letter over his son's shoulder, and got a maddening grin across his face. Ron simply dropped the letter, and with his eyes still glued forward, managed to speak.

"I-I've been n-named Head Boy..." there was a moment of silence, before Ron and Hermione both stared at each other. In a single moment the two of them leapt out of their chairs, screaming like madmen. The assembled party watched as the two spun around, planting a few kisses on the other. After a few moments of the joyous outburst, they realized what they were doing and, more importantly, where they were doing it and, most importantly, who they were doing it in front of. They each repelled from each other and resumed their seats, each blushing a horrible red. Harry fought hard, but couldn't help but laugh at the scene, as he was quickly joined by the remaining guests.


	7. Chapter 6: Of Age

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

Chapter 6: Of Age

A few stray lines of sunlight crept into the bedroom, spreading out through the shades and across its entire length. They traveled down across the floorboards, up the bed, and finally struck their intended target right in the eye. Harry grimaced as the dawn robbed him of the sleep he was eager to get, and he fought against a protracted yawn that signaled his return to the waking world. He blinked his eyes a few times, collecting his bearings, and the weight of that particular morning's significance hit him like a ton of bricks. Slowly, yet quickly, an idiotically wide grin spread across his face as he realized what day it was. July 31st. His birthday.

He could barely contain himself as he leaped out of bed in a rush, forgetting his glasses nearly. As quickly as humanly possible he tossed on some clothes and said glasses. He grabbed his wand and waved it right at the trunk, folding up his clothes and closing it shut. The first spell he'd ever cast outside of Hogwarts...legally anyway.

Trying his best not to disturb the still out-cold Ron. Harry rushed out of the bedroom as quietly as he could manage. He headed downstairs, where he found Mr. & Mrs. Weasley both sitting at the table, smiles on their face. Next to them was Hermione's father, apparently back from an early morning jog. Harry smiled at them as he walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen, and was almost immediately swallowed up by Mrs. Weasley.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!" she seemingly yelled, as Harry was quickly cut off from oxygen. Fortunately for him, the hug did not last too awfully long, as Mrs. Weasley was quick to usher him to the table and toss a plate of food in front of him.

"Happy birthday son," Arthur said warmly, with a firm pat on the back and an equally firm handshake. Harry returned it for a moment, and then the two embraced slightly in a sign of mutual respect for one another. Dr. Granger watched the scene and then moved to head upstairs.

"Well, if it's available, I'm going to take a shower and wake my family. We have business today to attend to. Happy Birthday Harry." Harry nodded back to the man who headed upstairs. Harry idly wondered how much of a shock everything must have been to the man and his wife, but dismissed the thought at a small cough from Arthur.

"Harry, these arrived for you by owl this morning," Harry put down his fork and set aside the plate as Arthur handed him four letters and a small package. Setting the package aside he took the first letter and noticed it was from the Ministry. He nearly gulped at it but opened it first anyway and read the contents.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Happy birthday! And Congratulations on reaching legal age in the wizarding world. As you are well aware you are now legally able to perform magic outside of school, though you are still to abide by the Official Wizarding Secrecy Act as it pertains to performing magic in the presence of muggles. Any questions you may have may be directed to the Ministry by Owl at the address listed below._

_Also, our records show that you have received prior instruction on apparition at Hogwarts. As such, you are immediately eligible to take a test to earn your apparition license. The office of Magical Transportation is open from 8-5 PM everyday except Sunday, and no appointment is necessary to take the test._

_Again, Happy Birthday from your friends at the Ministry of Magic_

_Sincerely,_

_Mafalda Cummings_

_Department of Records_

_Ministry of Magic_

Harry idly remembered Ginny saying something about a cousin Mafalda once, but he disregarded it, grabbing the second, and much smaller letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_With this being your 17th birthday, I am to inform you that you have come into an inheritance of three more vaults in addition to your current one with us. We need you to come to the main office in Diagon Alley to sign some paperwork so that you may access these vaults at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_Drumhook_

_Assistant Manager at Gringott's Wizarding Bank- London Branch_

Harry's eyes widened. He already had more galleons than he knew what to do with, what else could he possibly have inherited? His mind wondered at this as he grabbed the third letter, apparently from Hogwarts.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Happy Birthday Harry. I am simply reminding you that I need to see you now that you've come of age, as there are certain things that Albus wanted to leave to you upon your turning 17. Let me know by letter or floo call when you'll be stopping by._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry remembered the first owl he had received from McGonagall back at Privet Drive. He made a note to add her to the list of people he needed to see soon. Reaching over he grabbed the final package and letter. Interestingly enough, it was from Moody.

_Harry,_

_Sorry I'm not able to see you on your birthday. Albus said this might come in handy for the journey ahead._

_Constant Vigilance,_

_Alastor Moody_

Harry looked at the small note again and then ripped into the package. In it he found a small, somewhat aged, leather-bound book entitled _To Cheat Death_ by one Flavius Caliban. He flipped through the book quickly and noticed a bookmarking charm on a few chapters that seemed to have to do with Horcruxes. Harry made note to read this book carefully as soon as he could. Setting it aside, he went back to his breakfast temporarily, before lifting his head back up to the Weasleys who were standing over him with smiles on their faces.

"We wanted to wait to do this," Molly began, barely able to contain herself, "but with that gift you got there we just can't wait anymore." Harry shook his head, but still smiled. Part of him wanted to tell them that they didn't have to get him anything, that they really couldn't afford it. Arthur spoke again before Harry could interject, however.

"I know it isn't much but…well you'll see." Reaching into his robes he pulled out a small package hastily wrapped in scarlet red paper. Harry cocked an eyebrow as he took the package and unwrapped it quickly. Inside was a small black arrow with his name on it. Harry was confused for a few minutes, before an idea crossed his mind. He glanced up at the corner and viewed the Weasley's grandfather clock. Before long he put two and two together and a tear began to form in his eye as he realized what he had here. It was a clock hand.

"Thank you…" Harry whispered, barely able to contain the emotion.

"You've always been a member of our family," Arthur continued, "If not in name than in spirit. And Molly and I want you to know that no matter what happens, you'll always have a place here with us…and we'll always be very proud of you." At that Molly sniffled a bit and pulled out her wand. She levitated the clock hand out of Harry's hand and attached it to the clock where the others stood. The hand spun around for a few minutes, discerning his location, before stopping dead on Mortal Peril with everyone else's. Harry smiled at it nonetheless, and mentally longed for the day when they would be pointing somewhere else.

After the rest of the family and Hermione had gotten up and eaten breakfast, the various parties departed to go their separate ways for the day. Mr. Weasley was taking Ron and Harry to the Ministry for Harry's apparition test and then dropping the boys off at Diagon Alley to shop for their school stuff and perform other shopping duties for the day. Molly was taking Ginny somewhere, thought they had been quiet about what. Hermione too had been quiet, and had only given a brief happy birthday to Harry before departing with her parents. Before long, Harry and his compatriots were in the fireplace and traveling to the Leaky Cauldron. Upon arrival they headed for a run down phone booth a couple of blocks away and went in. Dialing "6-2-4-4-2" on the phone, it was merely a matter of moments before the three of them were in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. After checking in with security, they all headed for the Department of Magical Transportation.

Arthur looked over at Harry, who appeared to be a bit jittery. "Relax Harry," Arthur said with a smile, "there's nothing to it really."

"Yeah," Ron chimed in reassuringly. He had failed his first time but passed a couple of weeks before Harry had returned to the Burrow. "And besides…" he added with a smirk, staring straight ahead, "If you screw up there's nothing they can't fix."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said sarcastically, "That helps a lot."

"Glad to be of service." Harry stifled a laugh at the exchange, and it calmed his nerves…a bit. Though he had done this plenty of times with Dumbledore, now that he had come to it he was a bit nervous. A lot of his mission depended on being able to freely go where he pleased. A moment later and the lift came to a sudden stop and with a pleasant ding let them off at the proper level. They traveled done a small corridor to the Apparition Test Centre and met the lady at the door.

"Hello, I'm here to take my apparition test," Harry said with as pleasant a smile as he could muster.

"Name," the woman perfunctorily asked, pulling out a small piece of parchment while idly snapping a piece of chewing gum.

"Harry Potter," came the reply from Harry, and he silently counted down toward the anticipated response. _'3-2…'_

"Okay Mr.…..did you say Harry Potter?" Harry frowned and nodded as the woman nearly swooned at the mention of his name. He would never get used to this fame thing. He allowed her to have her moment of hero worship, and then kindly asked her where he needed to report. "Just go beyond those doors and they'll begin your test. Your friends can wait here while you take your test." Harry turned away and breathed in deeply. He looked at the two Weasley's standing behind him, both literally and figuratively, and got reassuring smiles from them. He turned back towards the doors, and headed through them.

He entered a rather large white room with a red X in one corner and a green one in the opposite corner. Scattered throughout the room were five doors leading to who knew where. In the center of the room sat a singular man, clad in usual Ministry attire and holding a piece of paper.

"Welcome Mr. Potter," Harry shook the man's offered hand, not really questioning how he knew his name. The man stood up and ushered him toward the corner. "So, here to get your apparition license?" Harry nodded. "Very good. Now the test is two parts. For the first part, stand on this red X here in the corner," Harry did as he was told, "and then I want you to apparate over to that green X across the room. Whenever you're ready." Harry stood there and cleared his mind. He focused himself on his target, and with a slightest of turns popped out of existence. He reappeared a few moments later, and mentally checked himself to see if anything was missing. Satisfied with his cursory check, he stood there as the instructor came over and checked him over thoroughly. After a few moments he nodded and smiled.

"Very good," he said, making a note on his piece of paper. "You passed the first part with flying colors. Now…the second part is a bit more difficult." Harry nodded in anticipation. "You see these five doors," he motioned with his hand to indicate what he meant, "inside one of them is a blue X. I want you to apparate onto that X if you can." Harry stared at him blankly for a minute and a knot appeared in his stomach. He was afraid of this, though the logic made sense to him. Ron had told him what to expect on the test, and apparating to an unknown destination was one of the things he had mentioned.

"Are you ready," the instructor asked, and to this Harry simply nodded and offered a perfunctory smile. He focused his mind again, trying to find his target. He pictured a blue X in a room similar to this one in his mind, and once he was certain he had the right image he counted down in his mind and then once more popped out of existence.

He rematerialized a moment later in an adjoining room, and he quickly crept one eye open and looked down. There beneath his feet was indeed a blue X. Breathing a sigh of relief, he again performed a cursory check of himself and didn't find anything missing. The door opened and his instructor looked at him, smiling. He repeated his check of before and then proceeded to mark down a few more things on his paper. When he was finished, he looked up at Harry and delivered his verdict.

"Congratulations Mr. Potter, you passed!" There was another tangible sense of relief that washed over Harry at this revelation. The instructor pulled the piece of paper from his clipboard and handed it to Harry. "If you give this to the receptionist she'll get you your license. Congratulations again." Harry thanked the man and headed out of the room. He adopted the most serious look he could as he passed through the first set of double doors and Ron and Arthur rushed to greet him.

"Well mate, what's the verdict?" Harry let the suspense linger for a moment later, before a goofy grin betrayed his countenance.

"I passed, with flying colors I might add," he replied, adding a slight bit of bravado to the last statement. Ron smiled at him while Arthur slapped him firmly on the back with a firm congratulation. Harry walked over and handed the piece of paper to the woman. She took it from him and glanced it over before offering her own congratulations. She motioned for Harry to stand over in the corner in front of a camera and stood up herself to take his picture.

"Say Quidditch," she said in a humorous tone, before snapping the photo. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the photo as it came out of the camera, and it promptly floated over to a smaller piece of paper and attached itself to it. She walked over and picked it up and handed it to Harry. Harry took it and saw it was his license, complete with a looping picture of him and his somewhat goofy smile.

"That license is charmed," the woman added, "to look like a Muggle driver's license should you ever need to fool someone or show identification to the Bobbies." Harry nodded in affirmation and thanked her, and the three of them left the room as Harry pocketed the license.

"Well, I have to stop by my office for a few hours before dinner tonight, just to catch up on some paperwork. Harry I understand you had some business at Gringotts?" Harry nodded. "Very good then." He handed a small money bag to Ron, who took it happily. "This is for your books Ron…not sweets…" Ron nodded and Harry just smiled at the exchange. "I'll see you boys later." At this, Harry and Ron turned away from Arthur, who continued down the hall to the lift and his office. The boys headed for another lift and were soon back in the Atrium. Off in the corner Harry could have sworn he saw the familiar bushy head of Hermione Granger, but when he turned to look he didn't find anyone. Shrugging it off, he and Ron were about to step on the lift to leave when they heard a rather annoying voice behind them.

"Potter, Ronald, just a moment." The two of them turned to see Percy, clad in his suit and tie, walking up to them.

"What is it Percy," Ron asked, with more than a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Nothing that concerns you Ronald," Percy said with equal disdain and annoyance. "Though I understand you've been named Head Boy. It's nice to know that some of my influence rubbed off on you." Ron rolled his eyes and turned away. Percy then turned to Harry. "The Minister wanted to speak with you before you left." Harry's eyes narrowed at the mention of Scrimgeour's name, but he spoke evenly with Percy.

"Well it will have to wait," Harry said monotonely, "I have other business to do today." Percy's eyes widened and anger filled his voice at this apparent snub.

"You've been summoned to a meeting with the most powerful wizard in Britain and you're telling him to leave a message?!? You should be thankful the Minister would even give you the time of day after everything…"

"STOW IT!" Harry yelled, drawing the attention from a few people including a certain blonde-haired reporter that he did not notice behind his back. "I don't really give a damn about the Minister right now Percy, and I will kindly do what I like on MY birthday," he responded in a quieter, but still much more vicious tone. Before Percy could respond, Harry turned away, and got on the lift with Ron, and was gone in a flash.


	8. Chapter 7: Inheritance

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

I would greatly appreciate some feedback on this story. It'd be nice to know what people think of it. At the risk of begging...please review.

Chapter 7: Inheritance

After the exchange at the Ministry, the two boys found themselves walking back to the Leaky Cauldron, their supply lists well in hand. Classes had yet to be completely formed yet given the possibility of students not returning, but the lists had been formed as best as possible. As Harry and Ron made their way out the back door and Ron removed his wand and tapped the bricks, Harry made a mental map of everywhere they needed to go. The first place he needed to go was Gringott's to settle his business there. Then was likely to be a stop at Flourish & Botts to get their books and then a stop at the apothecary for some potion supplies. Harry also made a note to stop at Madam Malkin's later, he needed a bunch of new clothes.

Harry also planned to stop at a furniture shop he had seen once before to garner furniture, though Ron wasn't quite sure what for. Harry smiled at the thought, but kept it to himself for a moment. He would likely let Ron off at the Quidditch store before he went looking for the furniture...for his new house.

Mentally Harry was sure he was ready to move into Grimmauld. He knew that he had somewhat come to terms with the death of his godfather, but going back there might prove to be a recipe for opening the floodgates of emotion all over again. Still, he wanted a place of his own now. The Burrow was all well and good, and he knew he had a place there if he ever needed it, but partly he wanted a home of his own, and secondly he wanted to protect the Weasleys. If he was there, it was like painting a bullseye on the place. He was filtering through his mind certain ways of trying to protect the home further...but coming up empty.

His mind continued to consider the possibilities as he and Ron made their way up to Gringotts. In order to speed things along, Ron had consented to remain in the lobby while Harry took care of his business. Approaching one of the goblins, Harry handed him the letter he had received earlier that day.

"I also wish to make a withdrawal, I have my key right here," Harry added, flashing the key to the goblin. The creature read the letter and then looked at Harry square in the eye. There was always something unsettling about goblins whenever Harry had seen them, but this time there was almost a hint of respect out of the corner of this particular goblin's eyes.

"Very well sir, I'll get the manager so that you may sign the papers to give you access to your other vaults." The goblin tottered off, motioning for Harry to follow. "We just need to check your identity. Please stand here." Whether it was because they had refined the process or because of fewer customers in the darkened days, Harry noted that the process didn't take nearly as long as did before. Still, he had no desire to do it again, and wanted to make sure to get as much money as he'd need for the day ahead and beyond. Once the process was complete, the clerk motioned for Harry to enter a small office off to the side. Harry did so and took a seat in front of a lowered desk where another goblin sat, dressed in much nicer robes than the previous goblin had been.

"Good morning Mr. Potter," the goblin began respectfully. "I am Drumhook. I see you received my letter." Harry nodded in affirmation. "Very good. Now the law says you are to sign these forms so that we may legally transfer control of the vaults to your name. If you so choose you may move the contents of all your vaults into one, or keep them where they are. The decision is entirely yours."

"Drumhook," Harry asked as he glanced over the forms presented to him, "Who exactly did these vaults belong to?"

"Ah, I thought you might ask that question. Let's see here." He picked up another piece of parchment and scanned it for a moment. "Vault 711, the Black family vault. Bequeathed to you upon the death of one Sirius Black." Harry nodded, he suspected that was the case. "Vault 433, a vault that had belonged to your father James Potter..." Harry raised an eyebrow at this and interjected.

"But I already inherited my parent's vault. I have the key right here." He flashed the key to Drumhook who checked again.

"Apparently that vault is a trust vault, that you could have access to at anytime. This vault was to come into your possession upon your turning 17." Harry was a little more than shocked. He thought his father had been rich before...he had a whole nother vault filled with money?

"The third vault, vault 1028, belonged to the late Albus Dumbledore. His will stated that you should have its contents." Harry again creaked an eyebrow at this, but nodded the same. After checking over the paperwork, he took a quill off the desk and signed his name to the parchment. Handing them back to Drumhook, the goblin quickly looked them over and then handed Harry a small keyring with three keys on it. "The keys are numbered to their respective vaults," he explained as Harry took the keys and pocketed them. Thanking Drumhook, he headed towards the mine cart where Griphook would be waiting.

It was a short and bumpy ride later as they arrived at the first vault, number 433. Inside it Harry found more of what he expected, mountains and mountains of galleons, about twice as much as whatever was left in his main vault. He made mental note to transfer these contents to his main vault. The next stop was the Black family vault, where Harry again found more gold and this time the Black Family Jewels. After a quick visit to vault number 687 to withdraw the money Harry needed, they continued down a bit further to find vault 1028. Inside, much to Harry's chagrin, he did find yet more gold. He idly thought that Ron could have used it far more than he could have. On top of a small pile of gold sat a singular letter. Harry walked into the vault and removed it before asking Griphook to close it again. He noticed the letter was addressed to him, and he set it aside in his pocket to read it later.

The rest of the shopping trip at Hogwarts had gone relatively uneventfully. After making all of their necessary stops, Harry and Ron had split up to do individual shopping at their own leisure, meeting back up at the Cauldron for a bite to eat. Ron ripped through the sandwiches at the same record setting pace he usually did while Harry simply picked through his at a more humanly possible speed. Accidentally dropping his fork, Harry bent over and picked it up, and as he did a small piece of parchment came lose from his pockets and floated over to Ron's feet. "What's this?" the redhead curiously asked in between mouthfuls, and he bent over and picked it up. He read the heading and glanced it over a bit before looking at Harry. "A furniture store? What do you need furniture for?" Harry grimaced a bit, but remained stoic.

"Grimmauld. I'm going to move in there as soon as possible." He could see the countenance on Ron's face droop a little as he realized his best friend would be moving out again, but Harry quickly reassured him. "I mean don't get me wrong...the Burrow's great and all, but it's not like I intend to live there the rest of my life." Ron nodded at this, and seemed like he wanted to continue the conversation, but had dropped it. Harry mentally scanned the possible pines of inquiry that one Ronald B. Weasley could come up with, and one almost immediately popped into his head. "We can set up a room for you too if you like. It's not like you'll want to live there after graduation either." Ron nodded and smiled. Harry knew he had made known a few ideas that he too wanted to leave the Burrow, if for nothing else than to be out on his own. Thinking of Grimmauld, other thoughts that he hadn't really addressed came back to his mind.

"Ron," Harry began, drawing his friends attention from the remaining food on the table, "How's the Order faring? We haven't really talked about it much, and I guess with everything else it's just been off the radar." Ron had a bit of his father flash across his face at the mention of radar, but that quickly dissipated to be replaced be a look of concern.

"Well, we don't know much," Harry could easily tell he meant both he and Hermione, "But from what we've been able to piece together things aren't going well." Harry felt a slight flinch at this, but motioned for Ron to continue.

"Well, right now there's no real leadership for the Order. Moody and Remus...and some of McGonagall...have been trying to keep things going, but it seems like their just going through the motions you know? The Order hasn't really broken up...but they're just kind of falling apart slowly, dying a slow death is what mum said one time."Harry frowned. He had kept up some hope that the Order would be able to maintain its existence without Dumbledore there to guide them. The fact that they hadn't scattered to the winds was something to smile about, but it was a small thing. Harry began to mull over in his mind ways that this could be rectified.

"Say," Ron suddenly remarked, glancing over at a clock, "Shouldn't we be getting back now? Don't want them getting worried about us." Harry nodded and they each stood up and grabbed there bags. "Well, might as well apparate." With a smile and a turn Ron was gone. Shortly thereafter, Harry joined him.

When both arrived at the Burrow, they had expected it to be bustling with the usual activity. Although much of the hustle and bustle of the last month or so had died down with the conclusion of Bill & Fleur's wedding, the Burrow was still a very lively place. However, at this particular moment of time it was not the case. They found the Burrow empty, practically abandoned. Ron and Harry each pulled out their wands as quickly as they could, defensively checking the house over. Harry instinctively raised his free hand up to his scar, in anticipation of some kind of pain, but found the numbing calm to be almost as infuriating.

Harry checked upstairs before a call from the kitchen lured him back down. There he found Ron, holding a piece of parchment in his hand while pocketing his wand. "Looks like they want us to meet them at the Order's HQ." He glanced up at Harry, "Looks like we'll be seeing your house sooner than we thought."

"Don't say anything," Harry answered back, placing his own wand back in his robes and looking straight at Ron. "I want to tell your parents myself." Ron nodded in affirmation and was soon gone with a pop. Harry sighed and steeled his resolve. Ready or not, he was going.

Grimmauld appeared in an instant, and it was completely different from the way Harry remembered it. Instead of the drab, cluttered home he had seen prior. The entryway was actually quite nice looking, decked out with some scarlet and gold touches here and there that Harry could only guess were from his godfather's imprisonment two years prior. He took a few steps, eyeballing the area, when a cackling voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FILTHY LITTLE RODENT!" Harry covered his ears and silently cursed himself for forgetting. He looked up and stared at the portrait of Mrs. Black hanging from the wall, staring down an evil glance at him. "YOU HEARD ME! ROTTEN LITTLE MUDBLOOD...GET OUT OF HERE! IT'S BAD ENOUGH THOSE OTHER TRAITORS ARE HERE TOO..."

She continued to ramble on about purity, while Harry decided he had just about enough of this. Removing his wand again, he pointed at the portrait and yelled "Eximo!" There was a loud rattling as the spell hit the portrait, causing the Black family matriarch to look around as her cage was rattled. After a short while, the spell failed, causing the painted woman to look down smugly at Harry.

"Think you can get rid of me do you? Well just try that again and see how well it works!" She crossed her arms, almost daring Harry to try again. Harry shrugged his shoulders and pointed his wand again, but rather than trying the same thing again...

"Silencio!" The silencing charm shot forward and hit Mrs. Black like a ton of bricks. She stood up in her portrait and began to yell something or other, only to find her voice had left her. After testing a few more words, she began to bang frantically on the portrait to be heard, yelling something to the effect of this being her house or some such thing. Harry merely smirked at her, and then continued onward, pocketing the wand along the way. He quickly wondered where Ron had gotten to, as he had apparated before him. He wandered about the first floor, looking around for his red-headed friend, before he began wandering down to the kitchen. He idly walked into the room, not really paying attention, when something floored him.

"SURPRISE!" came the cry from the assembled party, causing Harry to reflexively jump back. Once he realized what was going on, he held his hand to his head and felt a gigantic smile flash across his face and stay permanently plastered there. There was a large amount of applause from the guests, and Harry was nearly brought to tears. He saw the decorations that had been assembled, with a large banner that read Happy Birthday Harry. In the center of the large table, surrounded by copious amounts of food undoubtedly prepared by Mrs. Weasley, was the largest birthday cake that Harry had ever seen.

His eyes circled around the table as he saw all of his friends and what he considered to be his family at the table. The first people he saw of course were Ron, Hermione and Ginny the people he was closest to. To the right of them were the Grangers. To the left were two of his older friends, Fred and George Weasley, to whom he was silent partner in their ever-growing joke shop empire. Next to them were Mr & Mrs. Weasley, who had provided him with loving care when no one else seemed to. Behind them he saw friends he hadn't seen in a while, Neville Longbottom & Luna Lovegood had apparently been summoned to attend his surprise party. Next to them both Seamus and Dean were smiling, just happy that someone remembered that they existed for once.

Off in the corner stood the man Harry considered to be his first real friend, Hagrid, wiping a few tears from his eyes. Both Remus and Tonks were standing next to the half-giant, each smiling at the newly christened adult. Finally he saw Professor McGonagall, much to his surprise, with an equally large smile on her face. Harry stumbled forward, his mouth still agasp, firmly surprised with everything. "H-how long have you been planning this?" he finally managed to stammer out, as Molly directed him to the head of the table.

"About two weeks now," she said smiling as she ushered Harry to his seat. Finally situated in, Harry took another moment to absorb the scene, as everyone took a seat around the table. Harry couldn't help but smile at the scene and wish for more like it in the future. He paused and took it in a moment longer before realizing he needed to say something here.

"You guys this...this is the best birthday I've ever had. I know that there's some people we'd like to be here now," there was a somber pause at this note, "but like a certain friend of mine always used to say, we're never really gone as long as we remain loyal to those we love." Harry made a small glance at Ginny before continuing. "He also used to say Tuck in, so...let's take him up on that offer." More smiles followed as the feast that Mrs. Weasley had prepared was consumed by the assembled mass. Before long the food had all but vanished from the table and a quick wave from Mrs. Weasley had cleared the table of the remainder save for the cake.

"Now, before we have some cake," she continued with another wave of her wand, causing a large number of packages to appear, "Let's tuck in to the presents." Harry got a wide-eyed grin as he saw the number of packages on the table. Though the number would be paltry to someone like his cousin Dudley, it was more than he had ever received.

The first package he opened was from Seamus and Dean and was simple enough, refills for his broom servicing kit. It reminded him of Quidditch and he hoped that it wouldn't be canceled this year given the heightened danger. Next was Neville's package, and Harry was quite surprised at what it was. Inside the meticulously wrapped package was a small box which Harry opened to find a wand holster that would fit perfectly over his wrist.

"It's made of manticore skin," Neville explained, "and it's charmed so that it blends in perfectly with the robes. You wouldn't notice it unless you knew what you were looking for." Harry smiled and contemplated his formerly timid classmate. There seemed to be much more of a focus to his eyes than Harry could ever remember seeing. Knowing that the prophecy could have easily applied to Neville as much as it could have him, Harry shared a special internal connection with Neville, and he wondered idly if he should ever tell Neville about their intertwined destinies.

Luna had given him a book on mythical creatures, though she swore that it was non-fiction. Harry didn't really doubt her as much as he had in the past. Next was a gift from the twins, who were currently giving Harry a wicked smile. "What're you two up to?" Harry asked as he held their package.

"Oh nothing...absolutely..."

"Nothing dear Harry. Why on earth would..."

"you think that we could do anything to you..."

"on your birthday of all days." Harry raised an eyebrow, and cautiously tore open the package. Inside he found a small collection of candied fruits.

"Those," Fred...or was it George...explained, "are our latest and greatest invention. They're Animagus Toffee."

"Works just like a polyjuice potion mixed with an animagus transformation," the other twin said proudly, "the wrapper tells you what animal you'll change in to...probably."

"Probably?"

"We haven't worked out all the kinks yet," George admitted earning him a glare from his mother. George quickly raised his hands in defense, "I promise they're completely safe. Verity did have the unfortunate incident of turning into an ox instead of a baboon, but it's still completely safe!"

"I'm not even sure that's legal," McGonagall said with a haughty voice that instantly reminded Harry of his friend Hermione.

"Like George said," Fred replied with a smile, "We haven't worked all the kinks out yet." Minerva simply muttered to herself rolling her eyes while Molly shook her head but was forced to smile. Harry too smiled and set the box aside. He grabbed a larger box which he saw was from the Weasley parents. Unwrapping it he found a set of new robes, crimson and gold in color, that shone in the candlelight. He politely thanked the two closest things he had to parents in the world, knowing that such a gift was probably beyond their means, something he hoped to change in the immediate future. The next gift he found was from Tonks and Lupin together, and it was a collection of books dealing with the Dark Arts. Remus kept a smaller package close to himself, and once Harry had set aside the books, Remus leaned forward and handed him the package.

"I think your parents wanted you to have these," Harry took the small box and unwrapped it, clueless as to what it was. Opening the box, he found a diamond engagement ring with a small gold band attached to it, and a matching band right next to it. His parent's wedding rings.

"Thank you Remus," Harry said barely above a whisper, fighting back some emotions. Carefully setting the box aside away from the others he turned next to Hermione's gift. He assumed it was yet another book, but was surprised when it had no title on the front. Opening it up, Harry gasped aloud as he saw several pictures from Hogwarts of him. Of Ron. Of all of them. They spanned the various years and tribulations. Interlaced throughout were some pictures of his godfather and his mentor, Albus Dumbledore. He spoke a whispered thank you to his adopted sister, who returned simply with a smile. Next was Ron's gift, a pair of new guards for his Quidditch uniform to replace the virtually worthless pair that Harry had been using since his first year. Next he came to Hagrid's gift, another set of photos, this time of his parents. Harry set them next to the rings, viciously holding on to anything he could of his parents.

There were two remaining gifts setting on the table, to which Harry took the larger one first. "That's from me...and a friend," she placed emphasis on this, allowing Harry to know exactly who she meant by friend. She had even taken to adding a birthday card to the ensemble. Harry opened it and nearly laughed out loud at the playing loop inside. Ron picked it up and he too laughed uncontrollably. Ginny picked it up and didn't quite get the joke.

The inside was of a transfigured ferret being bounced around Hogwarts courtyard by a particularly pleased McGonagall. Eventually Harry stopped laughing and opened the package, causing all laughter to cease once he saw what was inside. It was a silver basin that Harry had seen many times before. Dumbledore's pensieve. "Th...this is too much Professor."

"It's yours Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied, raising her hand to quell the coming protest. "Albus wanted you to have it." The finality in her voice made it apparent to Harry that this was one fight he was not going to win.Setting the pensieve aside more carefully than any other gift, he came to the gift he had been saving for last purposefully. He took the small box and opened it, and smiled at what it was. "Thank you," he said, barely loud enough to be heard, and pulled something out which stunned most of the onlookers. They saw a simple gold chain, and on the chain was an intricately carved phoenix. In the center of the stone was a small ruby, glistening in the light.

"Gin...it's..." Ginny walked over and placed a small kiss on his cheek, not particularly caring about the looks she was getting from the assembled guests. She walked over and sat down, leaving Harry the quivering mass he was quickly used to becoming. Without thinking much he slid the chain over his neck and neatly tucked it under his robes. Arthur shook his head at the display and motioned to his wife.

"Okay...now that that's out of the way...cake anyone?" Molly too shook out of her stunned silence, and made a waving motion to clear the table of paper and stack the presents neatly in the corner. At this a small plate with a piece of cake appeared on it in front of everyone.Harry took the opportunity a few minutes later to drop his bombshell.

"I'm moving in here," he said under his voice, drawing the attention from a few of the scattered party, which eventually turned to muttered silence as they all stared at him.

"What was that dear?" Molly asked, a half-smile on her face.

"I said I'm moving in here. It is my house after all." He turned and looked at the Weasley's who were becoming somewhat depressed at this revelation. "Understand that this has nothing to do with you. I am thankful and grateful for all of the hospitality and attention and...well love really...that you've given me these last six years. You've treated me like one of your children and accepted me into your family. But children to eventually leave the nest so to speak, and I need to know for myself that I can strike out on my own."

Surprisingly to Harry, this was enough for Mrs. Weasley. To his surprise it was Arthur who seemed to be more adamant, but nothing else was said about it that night. Harry knew it was a conversation he would have to deal with later.

Once the cake was gone and the whole of the guests had left, it was a short trip back to the Burrow to collect Harry's things and an even shorter trip back to Grimmauld for the night. Harry reappeared in the entryway to the house and, after launching a cheeky grin to the still silent Mrs. Black, climbed the stairs to the third floor where he knew Sirius' room to be. Silently he opened the door to the room, and found it threadbare save for a small bed and desk. It wasn't much, but for tonight it would work. The next day when the furniture people arrived he could deck it out as he liked.

Setting aside his things, he set down Hedwig's cage and perch near the window. He stroked the bird on top of the head, cause a loving coo to emerge from the bird. He opened the window and allowed her to explore her new home. Harry sat down on the bed and removed a letter he had been saving for this moment when he knew he would be alone. He recognized the loopy script of his old headmaster and he opened into it hesitantly, unsure of its contents.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this, then I am dead. First and foremost do not grieve for the dead Harry. It is merely a new journey for the well-reasoned mind. Do not fear death as Tom did, for there is nothing inherently evil nor inherently good about it. Death is not a concept of good and evil, but merely another stage in life that we all must pass through. Nobody lives forever._

_Also understand that as I am writing this I am certain of my impending doom. I have known since just after the battle at the Ministry that my end was near. I also suspect I know how it has happened..._

The letter continued on but part of Harry didn't really want to read it. Part of him wanted to set it aside and forget about that horrifying day. Still, the letter might contain some valuable clues about how to defeat Tom.

_Either my worst fear has come true and the young Mr. Malfoy has succumbed to the dark or someone has been forced to protect him. Know this Harry. If Draco has killed me, then I have no doubt he did so only because his family was in danger. If he was not the one who did, then there is a great amount of hope for him yet. I know that you and he have never gotten along and likely never will, but there is good in him Harry. I know there is. Do not sentence the boy for the sins of his father._

_I also trust that if Mr. Malfoy did not kill me, than it was Snape who did so. Harry, I trust Snape. I trust him with everything that I hold dear, as should you. Know that if Snape did kill me, it was under his own duress...and under my own orders._

_I only pray that I have had time to teach you everything you need to know. Should I have not than Minerva will have the remaining memories I wanted you to view in the pensieve._

_My time is short, as are all of our times really. So I will say these things in closing. You are the strongest wizard of this or maybe any generation Harry, don't let anyone tell you any different. Look to your friends in your darkest times, for they will be the beacons of light that guide you back from the shadows. Do not accept everything at face value, for in between the light and the dark there are nuances of gray that the mind can only barely fathom. And do not shun the power of love. It has saved you once, and it shall save you again._

_And now this...you have been like a son to me Harry. I'm sorry to say I never knew family in my younger years, and I am sorry that I will not be there to personally witness you grow into the talented and good-hearted man I know you will become. But part of me will always be there. The dead never really leave us, as long as we are loyal to them and their memory._

_I will see you again._

_Love,_

_Albus_

Harry kept the letter in his hand and could feel tears streaming down his face. His birthday had been emotional enough, but this was practically overwhelming. He fell back on the bed, still fully clothed, and allowed the peace of sleep to claim him.


	9. Chapter 8: Dead Man's House

A/N: I own none of the associated canon.

Chapter 8: Dead Man's House

For once in his life, the dreams of one Harry Potter were pleasant ones. They didn't consist of falling into an endless void, of seeing his godfather's ravaged face slipping beyond his grasp forever or of seeing his mentor with a quizzical look on his face as he plummeted to the earth, already torn shuffled loose the mortal coil. Instead, his slumbering mind focused on the good things in life. Ginny. The Weasleys. Hermione. Quidditch. And added to that list, most importantly...was his home. _His_ home. Despite the letter that Dumbledore had given him, Harry's subconscious had not let them interrupt him in his dreamlike world.

Groggily Harry's eyes opened wide, a slightly elongated smile etched across his face. He instinctively reached for his glasses and slipped them on his face, kicking his shoes off in the process. He glanced around the room, blinking a few times to get the sleep out of them, and slowly sat up in his bed. The room was still somewhat barren, but that would be taken care of later this morning when the fine people at _Galgarin's Fine Furniture_ dropped by to fully outfit his new house. Harry had never met a dwarf before yesterday, but had quickly decided that they were as friendly a people as you could ever meet. It had been a good thing that Harry had kept the parchment with the location of Number 12 Grimmauld Place with him...he still needed to swing by Hogwarts and figure out how to get the Fidelus charm switched to him now that the...well he wouldn't think about that much. His eyes wandered over to the corner of the room, where next to Hedwig's perch a small rudimentary chair had been conjured. In it sat Ginny Weasley, feet propped up on the side, as she was idly reading a book. She glanced over at him and responded to his goofy smile with one of her own, and in one swift motion came to a standing position.

"Good morning," she said with a chipper voice, but Harry could tell there was something brewing beneath the surface there. He shrugged it off for the moment.

"Good morning to you...what time is it?" Harry hoped he hadn't slept passed the 10-o-clock time when the furniture was to arrive.

"Just past 7:30...you're actually early this morning," she paused a moment and walked back to her chair. She picked up a newspaper that Harry had not noticed before and slowly walked over to Harry. "I'm sorry to do this to you but..." she held back a moment and then pushed forward and handed the paper to Harry. Harry stared at her a moment before opening it up. At seeing it was the Daily Prophet...and reading the headline...his face began to flush.

_**Potter Snubs Minister!**_

_Is dissension in the ranks sign of victory for You-Know Who? by Rita Skeeter_

_It has recently come to this reporter's attention that yesterday in plain view of everyone within the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Chosen One, angrily rejected attempts by the esteemed Minister Rufus Scrimgoeur for a meeting to discuss the particulars of the War with You-Know-Who._

"_He was invited because we value his opinion," the Minister's junior secretary Percival Weasley was quoted as saying, "as we value the opinion of anyone who could help us take Him down. It almost makes you wonder who's side he's really on..."_

_The Minister himself could not be reached for further comment, but no doubt this was because of his countless efforts to protect each and every one of us._

_As for Mr. Potter, the tragic death of Albus Dumbledore seems to have sent the boy into a tailspin. Yesterday being his Coming of Age, he was reportedly seen at various Muggle establishments late into the night getting rather plastered...he..._

Harry stopped writing and crumpled the paper up, tossing it across the room in no particular direction. He sat in his bed, his breathing growing a little more intense with each passing second, and his left hand was opening and clenching in a fist. Ginny knew that if he didn't calm down soon, something was likely to blow up or worse. "Harry, please, calm down...I know it's horrible but..." she stopped as she saw she wasn't making much of a dent in that thick skull of his. Doing the only thing she knew to do, she jumped forward and kissed him dead on the lips. Harry was caught off guard, but slowly he felt his anger subside slightly, and he put more into the kiss. It grew deeper, and things grew a bit more personal as Harry started to lean back down and take Ginny with him...but this quickly ended as Harry's conscious mind slapped him hard in the face. Ginny pulled away, and Harry was left laying there, blinking repeatedly...

"Um...I-uh...Gin I..." Ginny just gave him a precocious smile and kissed him lightly on the nose.

"You're forgiven," she said with a smirk, and in the same swift motion she had used earlier jumping off the bed. She walked away, before turning back and adding, "and you're welcome. Wouldn't want you blowing up your new house." At that she turned and left Harry a blinking madman as his mind did cartwheels and what had almost happened.

Unbeknownst to Harry, the moment Ginny left his sight she dashed down the hall and into the bathroom. "That was too much," she said in a whispered breath. She made a promise to herself that she shouldn't try something like that lightly.

Harry and Ginny found themselves sitting at breakfast later, Mrs. Weasley looking over them a bit more carefully than she had in the past. Harry couldn't shrug the feeling that both of the Weasley parents were watching him uncomfortably. He made a quick beeline out of the kitchen the moment breakfast was over, he finishing before Ron even had dug into a second plate. Harry was trying to make it out of the kitchen and to his room without drawing notice, but he did see Mr. Weasley following him up the stairs.

"Harry," the elder Weasley stated quickly but sternly. "I was wondering if I could have a quick chat with you." Harry looked back, a glint of worry apparent in his eye, and nodded in affirmation. He led Mr. Weasley out of the kitchen and up to the main floor, taking him into the library. Arthur trailed in after him and locked the door upon their entry, causing Harry a bit more worry. He hadn't thought how the Weasley's might take his leaving, let alone his relationship with their only daughter. He watched the older man stroke his brow throughly, pacing back and forth, while Harry took a seat in one of the few chairs that remained in the library. Finally, Arthur stopped pacing and looked at him squarely in the eye.

"Do you love Ginny," he asked, his voice cold as ice, no hint of the warmth and comfort that had always been present there. The question caught Harry by surprise and he didn't have an answer ready on his mind. So the first thing that entered his thoughts came out.

"Yes," he said quickly, before catching himself at what he had just said. '_Too late now Potter!' _he thought to himself, as he braced to be cursed into next year. Instead he heard a sigh and saw the man sit down across the way from him, his eyes twinkling, a half-smirk on his face. There was some kind of memory awash over him, and he muttered something under his breath that Harry couldn't quite understand.

"What was that sir," Harry asked, risking a question. Arthur looked at him and broke into a full smile.

"I said it's just like me and Molly. We fell at love at school and...oh but enough about me. Harry you are...for all intents and purposes...like a son to me. But your not. And to be honest, I can't think of a better person for my daughter." Harry got a grin on his face as the situation lightened. "However..." he continued, drawing Harry back into his countenance. "I want you to promise me something for me.

"Protect her. Above all else protect her. And give her the attention, love and care that she deserves and that she will give you. Trust me, you will never forgive yourself if something happens to her. To that end...if you are agreeable...I'd like to discuss living here for a short time." Harry's eyes went wide. His family was asking him for...help. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt needed by someone. Smiling, Harry nodded his head.

"Of course sir, it's the least I can do for all you've ever done for me. I'm only happy to return the favor." Harry thought for a moment before continuing, "Though I will have to ask a favor of you." Arthur's eyebrow slided upwards a bit, but Harry continued. "See, I can never keep a place this huge clean. And I have other estates in my possession that need to be addressed, investments that need to be managed." Harry jumped forward and looked out a small window in the library. "If you and Molly are agreeable," he didn't notice any wince at the usage of their given names, "I would like you to do these things for me. Of course this comes with the caveat that you allow me to pay you a salary, one we can negotiate at a later time." Arthur looked as if he would argue the point, but the fixed glaze from Harry's emerald eyes stopped. Smiling he resigned himself to it and nodded.

"Come on, I have to get to work, we can discuss the particulars tonight."

/ - / - / - /

The furniture delivery had gone without fail and Harry was like the venerable kid in a candy store. He really didn't ever go on many shopping sprees. Of course living with the Dursley's didn't exactly help spur on that notion, but occasionally he did like to splurge. This was one of those occasions.

Finally he had decided on a Quidditch motif throughout the house, which annoyed the hell out of Mrs. Black everytime she thought about it. Harry made sure to replace the door handles with replica snitches, carrying the motif even further, and allowing Mrs. Black to see one everytime she woke up.

Everyone just sat in amazement as Harry fully furnished several guest rooms, a living area, the kitchen/dining room and much more. Molly was impressed with his picks for many of the things, and nodded in approval when she saw her new kitchen cabinet tops.

The dwarves made everything easy, simply transporting it from their shop in Diagon Alley and putting it wherever Harry instructed them to. When he received the bill after four hours hard work his eyes shot open a bit at the price, but he hadn't really been paying that much attention. Besides he knew he could afford it anyway. Signing the bill he handed it back to the head dwarf and bid him a good afternoon. Once the crew had left Harry smiled and took a seat in the large burgundy chair that he had placed in the master suite, his room, and took stock. A large dresser and desk flanked one wall, with a handcrafted perch placed next to the window for Hedwig, of which she undoubtedly approved given her current slumbering state. There was a large king size bed in the room, replacing the smaller one that had been left from Sirius days. His trunk sat at the end of it. Near the door were two twin bookcases that would no doubt be filled once Hermione was done with him, but for now held some of his older books and a few framed pictures here and there. Also near the door was a coatrack, where his invisibility cloak hung to air out for the time being. Around Harry was a makeshift sitting area with four matching burgundy chairs gathered around a large wooden coffee table that has a built in chess set. All of this of course was interlaced with various Quidditch elements, a carved snitch here or there, handles the shape of broomsticks on the dresser, things of that nature. Harry absorbed everything and smiled. He finally had a home of his own.

A sharp knock on his door drew his attention. He answered for them to enter and smiled again when his three friends came bolting in to his room, each with matching grins on their faces. "So," Harry said, trying to keep as straight a face as he could muster, "How do you like your rooms?"

"Harry it was...it was too much," Hermione was the first to choke out, trying her best to sound chiding. She was failing miserably however.

"No it wasn't," Harry replied, "You are guests in my home. It should only be fitting that you are comfortable." He turned to Ron, "How's yours mate?"

"Great," Ron replied, his smile broadening wider, "Just need to get some Cannons stuff up and it'll be almost like home." Harry and everyone else rolled their eyes at this. "What," Ron asked, honestly annoyed, "It'll be their year soon, I know it." Harry nearly laughed at the eternal optimism.

"Let's just hope for the best," Ginny replied, smirking at the pun. Ron glared at her for a moment, but instantly fell back into a smile. Harry watched as all four of them sat back in respective chairs and simply enjoyed the company. Harry coughed a moment, drawing their attention again. He had something he needed to do. He pulled out a small piece of parchment that Remus had given him and laid it on the table.

"Remus gave me that," he explained, "It's for something I have to do tomorrow." Hermione was the first to snatch the paper from the coffee table and read it.

_**The Home of Mr. and Mrs. Prongs may be found at**_

_**Number 7 Phoenix Court**_

_**Godric's Hollow**_

Hermione thought back to Prongs and what it meant. Before long she nodded in understand and passed the piece of paper to Ginny. She read it and after a few moments understood to, passing it to Ron. Ron followed suit, getting the inside meaning quicker than the others, and handed it back to Harry.

"You want us to go with you then," Ron asked, his voice flat.

"Yes," Harry said with a sigh, "All of you." He gave an eye to Ginny. "I can't promise I won't be a bit of a wreck but..." Ginny just smiled at him and squeezed his hand, a gesture he returned.

"We'll be there," she simply said, and her smile was all that Harry needed. The moment passed quickly as Hermione interjected.

"Harry, what will we do about the Minister. He's liable to be furious with you after that article and we don't need the Ministry trying to arrest us on trumped up charges or something," Harry scowled and hung his head. She was right of course, but the last thing he wanted to do was engage the Minister in a debate at the moment.

"I'll send him an owl tonight, try to talk with him after we get back from my parents house," he finally said, with a resounding sigh that followed. "Remind me to bring bug spray next time I go anywhere." Hermione laughed, while the other two were simply confused as to what bug spray was. Harry smiled at the confusion, but felt a knot at the pit of his stomach. He knew the darker clouds were on the horizon, and his journey...their journey...was just beginning.

A/N: Arggghhh! I really didn't like this chapter but I had to get another slow one up to speed things along a bit. Finally we'll get to some action (verbal not physical...too much) in the next chapter.

Thank you for the reviews thus far and keep them coming. Hopefully with more action coming I'll be able to crank out the chapters more quickly than this one took, as short as it is.


	10. Chapter 9: Godric's Hollow

A/N: Hopefully now the story will pick up. I own none of the associated canon.

Chapter 9: Godric's Hollow

Harry awoke early the next morning, his mind filled with concern as to what needed to be done that morning. It was something he had told himself he needed to do, if nothing else then to steel his resolve on the journey ahead. He glanced down once more at the parchment that Remus had given him:

_**The Home of Mr. and Mrs. Prongs may be found at**_

_**Number 7 Phoenix Court**_

_**Godric's Hollow**_

Harry regarded it for a moment and realized he didn't recognize the handwriting. A few seconds later he realized where the nearly illegible scribbles must have come from. His eyes burned at the thought of the sniveling coward named Wormtail. '_Remus will finish him,'_ Harry told himself, _'he deserves the vengeance.' _With Sirius dead, there would be no need to keep Pettigrew alive any longer than necessary.

Putting the thoughts aside he strolled over to his bookshelf where he had placed some framed pictures of his family. Hagrid had been kind enough to send a few photos of his parents and Sirius while they had been at school, and Harry smiled at how happy...how carefree they all seemed in the pictures. None of them had any hint of the storm clouds that were brewing over the horizon. His eyes stung and he clenched his fist to try and hold back the tears that were threatening to overtake him. He gazed at the wedding photo of his mother and father, saw how happy they were just simply to be in each other's company. His eyes then drifted down to his favorite photo, one of him as a baby being swung around by his father while his mother just laughed at the display. Collectively these photographs provided him with the only picture he had of his life...until Voldemort had ruined it all.

Harry felt the anger well up inside of him and he forced it back underneath as far as it could go. He needed to maintain his cool right now. The last thing he needed was blowing his top and breaking down _before_ he even saw his parent's home. Taking a deep breath he turned away from photographs and headed for the wardrobe. Pulling out a set of clothes he headed for the master bath and stepped into the shower. As he let the warm water wash over him in waves he allowed himself to think more about what Dumbledore had said in the letter two days prior. He hadn't told everyone about Snape, and the more he thought about the less it made sense in his head.

Why would Dumbledore order Snape to kill him?

Harry made a mental note to revisit the scene in the pensieve as soon as they got back. He'd been promising the others to show them the memory as well, and this would be as good a time to do it. As he finished in the shower and got dressed, he resolved to relive the memory, even if he didn't really want to go through it again. It had to be done in order to settle the question of Snape's loyalties one way or another, even if Harry was certain himself where the ex-Potions Master's loyalties truly did lie. He nodded to himself again and headed out of his room. He went downstairs towards the library, finding Hermione there with her nose firmly planted in a book. She glanced up at him and offered him a quick good morning before heading back. Harry turned his head sideways to try and read the title. _The Darkest of Magics._

"I thought I might find something about Horcruxes in it," Hermione explained, flipping through a couple more pages and then closing it. "So far nothing." Harry nodded.

"Moody gave me a book about how to cheat death," Harry said, earning a bit of a wide-eyed book from Hermione. "There might be something in there. I haven't had a chance to read it yet." Hermione nodded and went off to collect another book. Harry just snickered to himself and sat down in a comfortable chair, reaching and grabbing a small apple out of the fruit bowl that Mrs. Weasley had placed there. He didn't want to eat too much breakfast for fear of losing it later that day. He glanced over as Ron made his way into the room and sat across from him, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Morning mate," Harry offered, but Ron merely grumbled. Hermione returned to her seat sans a book, simply placing her hair into a more appropriate bun for the trip.

"Now remember," she began to explain as Ginny slowly stalked into the room, also looking a bit tired, "Once we get off the Knight Bus and into the village...we're supposed to be muggles. So don't act out of character." She glanced at Ron, who just waved his hand and nodded in between yawns, followed by a similar response from Ginny.

"You don't think _I _know how to act like a muggle," Harry said with a smirk. "I did grow up with the most mugglish of muggles in the whole of Britain." The group smiled at the joke. Harry took one last bite of the apple and stood up. With a sweep of his hands the group followed him out of the library and towards the main entry hall. Harry made sure to tip an imaginary hat to Mrs. Black as he passed by, with a cheeky grin firmly planted on his face. The now perpetually annoyed portrait simply threw an angry glare in his direction.

The quartet walked outside and passed down the street a few blocks before stopping at an intersection. Harry unsheathed the wand he kept under his sleeve and stuck it outwards slightly. Seconds later there was a loud bang and the Knight Bus came into full view. It crawled to a stop in front of the four.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus...emergency transport for str..." the new conductor was cut off by Harry who simply tossed a few galleons into his hand and walked onto the bus. He was quickly followed by Ron and Ginny, then by Hermione who informed the conductor of their destination. The conductor shook his head and retook his seat.

"Godric's Hollow Ern. Take 'er away!" Ernie Prang nodded and pulled a few levers, and with another bang they were off. Harry managed to keep his seat rather nicely, as did Ginny and Ron. Hermione was thrown for a loop, bouncing back and forth as she rode the twists and turns of the trip.

After about 20 minutes the bus came to sudden stop just outside a small village on the outskirts of London. Harry and his friends dismounted the bus, and Harry took one look back at the conductor, mentally reproaching the Minister for not having released Stan Shunpike yet. The conductor looked back at him with wide eyes.

"Say...ain't you the fa..." Harry shook his head.

"No. But I get that a lot." Before the conductor could question further, Ginny took Harry's hand and pulled him away, shooting an angry glare at the man. Ron and Hermione followed suit, and the bus left with another loud bang, Steeling himself again, Harry motioned for the three others to follow him down the road.

Godric's Hollow was a quiet little village that barely deserved even that distinction. It was little more than a few houses grouped together along three or four small streets that each ended in dead ends, with a more main street with a few businesses flowing between them. Harry glanced around at the neighborhood and noticed how non-descript it actually looked. No one would suspect anyone would hide here, no one at all.

He fumed internally at Pettigrew again.

Turning down the street called Phoenix Court, he strode down the sidewalk with a bit of a hesitant determination encroaching on his steps. His pace was slowing as the house numbers started to go upwards, and his three friends were quickly slowing down to match his pace. Each of them kept a short distance though. They knew this would be difficult for Harry, and had agreed to give him as much leeway as possible. Though each of them was ready to intervene should the boy breakdown at what he was going to see.

Eventually they came to an empty field where Number 7 Phoenix Court should have been located. Instead of the house that looked just like the others on the street, there was nothing but emptiness here. Harry rummaged around in his pocket and took out the piece of parchment. He gazed over it again and committed the address to memory. As soon as he looked up the house popped into existence, and Harry mentally winced.

He had half-hoped that Hagrid wouldn't have been mistaken after telling him the tale of that Halloween night years ago as far as his houses remains were concerned. Hagrid had said that the house had likely been destroyed, but he couldn't remember for certain. Though there was a gaping hole in the roof where he guessed his nursery had been, the house was practically untouched. It was as bland and identical as the other houses in the neighborhood. It was a small, two-story home painted a dull white coloring with grey shingles covering the roof of the house and of the small porch on the front end. Harry took a deep gulp of air, trying to force down the knot forming in his stomach as he slowly pressed forward. He reached the front door and shakily extended his hand. Firmly grasping the silver doorknob, he gave another wince as it turned with ease, no sign of a lock on it. Summoning up every ounce of his Gryffindor courage, Harry slowly opened the door and made his way inside.

The entryway was simple enough. A hallway led down to a darkened room that Harry guessed was a den of some sorts, but off to the side was a living room that had a full-picture window view of the front yard. Harry turned left and into the room. It's white paint practically matched the outside of the house, and the furnishings were similarly simplistic. He glanced over at the empty shelves where some books had once been, and struggled as hard as he could to remember any of it. Over in the corner he could see a small playpen in full view of the kitchen, and he walked over towards it. Hesitantly he rubbed his hand across the railing of the pen, fighting back the first few tears that fought out of the corners of his eyes. Sniffing a bit he trudged forward, headed towards the kitchen.

After passing through a rather informal dining room he entered the kitchen and got the first view of the backyard. There was a small wooden patio that extended out a ways and a garden shed in the far corner of the yard. Passing by a kitchen door to the outside, he entered another living space that he had suspected to be the den. There was a fireplace, the wood inside was long since dormant. Harry considered it for a moment and noticed that there wasn't even a jar of floo powder sitting there.

Something about the house had Harry amiss. It wasn't anything spectacular...but he hadn't expected it to be a mansion. It was the fact that the house was so...mugglish. There wasn't a hint of magic anywhere there.

It suddenly dawned on him that there was a reason for that. He quietly shuddered at his parent's sacrifice. They had abandoned their whole lives just to protect him.

Yes, Peter would suffer greatly.

Moving forward through the living room he came towards the bottom of the staircase. In a wave a rush of magical energies overtook him and he stumbled in his walk. Quickly Ginny and Ron were at his side, helping to steady him. He nodded them off, collecting himself from the onslaught. After a few moments he leaned forward and felt on the ground, rubbing his hands over the light brown caret of the staircase and the hardwood floor of the hallway. He had felt this magic before, it was Tom's magic. He didn't recognize the other signature though...till he searched in himself. With a shudder and a few forced tears, he realized this was the spot where his father had been killed.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and turned around to Hermione who glanced down at him with concern. "My father," he whispered, only getting a nod from the young witch. Taking a deep breath, Harry stood back up and started up the small staircase to the second floor.

Immediately to his right was a small bathroom that Harry barely offered a second glance. Also to his right was a linen closet that didn't really draw his attention. He was focused on the three rooms at the end of the carpeted hallway. He went to the one on the left first, and frowned at finding it completely empty. He noticed a desk chair and a few bookcases. This had likely been his dad's study. Ignoring the center room purposefully, he headed to the right and entered his parent's bedroom.

Like the rest of the rooms in the house it looked like it belonged in any other muggle household. The bed was a simple king size with a handmade quilt sticking up over the side. He walked into the room and glanced around, seriously frowning that anything that even related to his family had been removed. He questioned why that was, but in the back of his mind a slight conclusion was coming around. Sighing as he headed out of the room, he kept a close eye on his friends behind him. He'd probably need them for this. He paused just outside the closed door at the very end of the hallway, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

As before he was almost floored with the rush of magical energy that fell over him the moment he opened the door. After letting the initial rush pass, he walked into the room and regarded it with shimmering eyes. Unlike the other rooms this one had distinct flavor to it. The walls were painted a light blue with an animal-lined wallpaper wrapping around the middle of it. The animals moved while they were smiling, and Harry let out a laugh as he saw it was a dog, wolf, and deer that pranced about closest to the center of the room. Clearing his throat he walked over to the ruined crib in the middle of the room, his eyes awash with tears as he considered everything that had happened. This is where it had all began. Where he had been marked by Voldemort and set on his path to this predestined conclusion. Where his life had been destroyed before it had even begun, in a sense.

The emotions finally came full throttle at him as he identified the magics that surrounded a spot a few steps away from his crib, the signature of that of his mother. In a heap he collapsed onto the floor and began to openly weep at the sight, the pain of sixteen years of sorrow and heartache finally overtaking him. Ginny rushed forward and leaned down next to him, taking his crying face and holding it firmly against his shoulder as she offered harried words of comfort. Ron and Hermione merely stood back, their faces drawn, not really caring that they were silently squeezing the other's hand for comfort and support at this point.

After a few minutes of crying his eyes out, Harry's tears ran dry. He looked downward at the floor, his breath ragged and his emotions still raw. "It wasn't fair..." he finally said, barely above a whisper. "It wasn't fair that this had to happen to them. It shouldn't have happened to them."

Ginny simply nodded. "I know Harry, it's not fair. But we're here. All of us are here now." Ron walked forward and leaned down in front of him as well.

"That's right mate," he said, offering as much of a smile as he could, "And we're always going to be there for you." Harry looked up and offered a timid smile, still fighting back some tears. Hermione leaned forward as well, in between Ron and Ginny.

"You'll never be alone again," she added, her smile radiating in the group. Harry regarded all three, and for the first time in his life felt truly lucky to be alive.

The group had slowly made their way out of the house, without any other words spoken between them. Harry had made a note to grab the only thing of notice on his way out, a small locked box that had been on his parent's dresser. After shrinking it to the size of a matchbox he stuck it in his jeans pocket and followed his friends out the front door. Their business was far from concluded that day, and they made there way to a small church that laid just off in the distance.

Beyond the small white chapel was a normal looking graveyard. Harry had not been looking forward to this moment either, but his strength had somewhat been resolved after the events at his house. Spreading out amongst the headstones, they searched for the two that Harry knew from Remus had to be around here somewhere. Remus had visited the headstones in the past, but not recently much to his chagrin. Finally Harry came to a large willow tree that sat in the corner of the graveyard, away from the other headstones. The others saw him fall to his knees and quickly deduced that he had found their quarry. Rushing over to his side, they all looked down and saw two, small, marble plaques firmly planted in the ground beneath the shade of the tree, each with an intricately carved portrait of the person laying beneath. Below those was another plaque with a small epitaph. They carefully saw the one in the upper left to read "**Lillian Rose Potter; born October 4, 1958; died October 31, 1981." **The gravestone next to it read "**James Michael Potter; born December 17, 1958; died October 31, 1981."** Below them was a epitaph that caused all of their hearts to skip a beat. It read "**Dedicated and Loving Parents who died to protect the only thing important in their lives...their son."** Harry again nearly broke down at this, but waved off Ginny's embrace when he had control of his emotions again. Clearing his throat, and not caring that the others were there, he began to speak.

"Mum...Dad..." he began shakily, "I made it. I'm here. You guys let me live...and it's been hard but...I'm here. I've got people who care about me. I've got people who love me. And..." he paused a moment as he considered the right words. "Part of me knows I'll see you again but, until then...just know this. I'm going to finish this." His eyes steeled with resolve they had not known since the death of Dumbledore. "I'm going to finish this and this prophecy and then live my life that you graciously gave to me. I'm going to make you guys proud...I promise." At this a few more tears trickled down his face, and Ginny leaned forward and embraced him softly.

Suddenly Harry opened his eyes with a bit of a frantic look to them. He made a motion with his right hand and his wand quickly fell into place, thanks to the wand holster Neville had given him. He turned quickly, much to the surprise of the others, and anger flashed over his face, quickly replacing the sadness that had been there moments ago, as he saw the man who had snuck up on them.

"Well well," Severus Snape said with a sneer, "That was quite a moving speech there." Harry made a decision right there. Dumbledore or not...Snape was going to pay for what he had done.

A/N: Bit of a cliffhanger ending there, but maybe it'll encourage more interest...or cause people to hate my guts...but either way at least people will be reading!


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